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It was Grand Theft, Donut at 7th and Montana on Sunday as Mo "inadvertently" grabbed someone's bag of donuts and brought them to my table. Several minutes later, she laughed, "What have I done? Somehow I just picked up this bag as if it were mine and walked off with it!" Why someone would purchase any baked goods at Starbucks is beyond me, but Mo did the right thing. She brought the bag inside and quietly left it on the counter where she found it. When she got back, she announced that it was her birthday and left shortly thereafter. I'd say "Many Happy Returns," but that might be redundant ...!
Eyes were popping yesterday at 7th and Montana as a man bearing a striking resemblance to Santa Claus made the scene. He walked through the door carrying a large sack over one shoulder, plunked himself down at a table by the window and ordered an Egg Nog Latte. "Sheesh," I said, "They start pushing Christmas earlier and earlier every year. Can't we at least get through Thanksgiving first?" "I hope he didn't park his sleigh outside," said Bob. I waited for Kringle to regale us with a few 'Ho Ho Hos," but no such luck. Maybe he heard that Ho Ho's -- like Twinkies -- are an endangered species. Instead, he pulled a Net Book out of his sack and began typing up a storm. I guess he was making his list and checking it twice ...!
The hills were alive with the sound of music this morning at 7th and Montana, thanks to Rigolatte, the man who put the erratic in operatic. He made the scene this morning with an obvious chip on his shoulder. "Who the hell are they to say I need an agent?" he shrieked, "Faith is all you need. If you have Faith you have everything!" He marched into the rest room, carrying a bottle of mouthwash, and slammed the door behind him. "I'll show them," he continued. Moments later, he could be heard gargling loudly, then angrily reciting what sounded like the lyrics to the Rogers and Hammerstein classic, "My Favorite Things." I'll say one thing, the man has talent. What I can't figure out is why he's always locked in the Starbucks rest room. Maybe he's Von Trapped ...?
Thanksgiving might be around the corner, but you wouldn't know that based on the behavior of the "Gobbler," a regular at 7th and Montana who evidently doesn't know how to give thanks. The Gobbler arrived recently at Our Favorite Starbucks at the same time as me. Rather than rush by her to get in line first, I did what I always do in a situation like this, I held the door open and said, "After you!" She looked at me -- or to be more precise -- looked right through me as if I was beneath her notice, then marched right by me without so much as a "Thank You." This is a pet peeve of mine. I could have yelled "You're Welcome," or at least given her a gentle reminder that common courtesy works both ways, but why risk a perfectly good photo opportunity? Anyhow, I guess we can all be Thankful this holiday season that there aren't too many Turkeys like this one.
Rigolatte -- the local loon known for locking himself in the rest room at Our Favorite Starbucks and belting out opera tunes for hours on end -- has finally met his match. Meet 'the Church Lady,' a woman who was so taken with Rigolatte this morning she decided to impersonate a church. The fun began when Rigolatte started warming-up his pipes at about 11:30 a.m. "Mi, mi-mi-mi-mi .... Do-re-mi-fa-so-la-ti ...," he sang out as he walked up 7th Street and marched through the front door. "What was that all about?," asked the Church Lady. "Oh, he's just preparing to sing Opera," I replied. "I LOVE opera," she said, "Maybe he'll give us a concert?" "I wouldn't ask him if I were you," I warned, "He's also very religious and will try to get you to join his church." "Oh," replied the Church Lady, "There's nothing to worry about there ... I AM a church ... I'm my very own Church and I worship at my own altar!" She stretched her arms skyward to form a makeshift steeple and sat there waiting, as if for her congregation to arrive. "Yup, I'm a Church!," she repeated at various intervals, "I'm still a Church!" Who knows, maybe one day Rigolatte will join her and, together, they can form their own Moron Tabernacle Choir ...!
It was Lights, Camera, Action last night as a number of us -- Gen, Kathy, both Robins and me -- made the trek from 7th and Montana to Paramount to see Nat's new show, See Dad Run. It was a blast. Truth be told, I had my fears about sitting in a live studio audience. "What if I don't laugh out loud enough?," I wondered. I even downloaded an app on my Spycam that laughs like a hyena just-in-case. But -- as anyone who knows Nat and watches the show could tell you -- it was completely unnecessary (and wouldn't be allowed, anyhow). The show is funny and the acting is great. I especially enjoyed watching them shoot various versions of the same scene with different nuances. That's where you can see the real artistry involved. See Dad Run stars Scott Baio (pictured above with Gen, Kathy and me) and airs on Sundays at 8:00 p.m. -- or 7:00 p.m. Central time -- on Nick@Nite!
The Pajama Game continued at 7th and Montana yesterday with the arrival of a young woman wearing 'bunny rabbit' pajamas, a long-hooded bathrobe, fuzzy slippers and a sleeping mask. "Looks like someone just rolled out of bed," said one witness. "Oh, she's just sick," replied another, who I presume was her father, "She's not going to school today." The girl sneezed, as if to illustrate the point. Who knows, maybe she was at Starbucks on Doctor's orders ...?
Ladies and Gentlemen, meet Tse Tse Top, an Anonymous Newcomer who made the scene at 7th and Montana this morning in a near catatonic state. He somnambulated his way through the front door, set a laptop up as if to do a little work, then promptly fell asleep on it. At first I wondered if he'd been bitten by a Tse Tse fly, but then it occurred to me, his behavior probably has more to do with the election than anything else. The poor schlub has elected to tune everything out!
Ladies and Gentlemen, meet Roberta, the latest Fashion Victim to traipse up and down 7th Street in her 'evening' wear. This time, it was a pink, fuzzy bathrobe with Ugg boots ... at 3:00 p.m. yesterday. And that was nothing compared to Ms. Nightie-at-Noon who made the scene at Our Favorite Starbucks yesterday wearing what looked like a light blue nightgown, purple Ugg Boots and -- strangely enough -- long, purple gloves. At first I wondered why folks would be dressing like this in broad daylight, but then it dawned on me: They must have turned the clock all the way back to Halloween ...!
Sometimes I wish we had an Election Protection program at 7th and Montana. It would work just like Witness Protection except that it would give us respite from politicians who like to press the flesh this time of year. "I'm Jimmy Bupkiss and I'm all about change." Actually, yesterday I sort of brought this on myself. I don't know the local candidates and usually try to get advice from someone who does, Our Favorite Ex-City Councilman. I asked him yesterday for his picks for City Council and he helped me out. Then he asked me who I was voting for on the School Board. "That's an area I know nothing about, but I made some guesses," I replied. "Well," he replied, looking at my sample ballot, "You made the right choice. Let me introduce you to Seth Jacobson." It was then that I noticed someone was standing next to him. "Nice to meet you," I said, "You have my support." Truth be told, I picked him almost randomly -- he was identified as a public policy advisor which I thought might be helpful -- and he does seem like a smart guy. And, also a plus, he wasn't walking from table-to-table with a clipboard. Anyhow, from now until Election Day, if I see any other local candidates at Starbucks, I'm going to run for office myself. My office, that is, in Playa Vista ...!
Halloween can be a confusing day at 7th and Montana. No one, it seems, wants to cross that fine line between "Is that a costume?" and "That's a good look for you!" I'm pretty sure, however, that the Barista wearing snakes on her head yesterday was dressed as Medusa. "Nice look," I commented, "and perfectly appropriate. The Stones should be here any minute!"
Meanwhile, the Priest outside on the sidewalk had some folks standing in line to confess. "Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned!," I said. The Priest just posed and smiled. I knew as soon as I saw him that he was a fake. The real priest who holds impromptu confessionals at Our Favorite Starbucks never wears his robes!
It was a daily dose of doily at 7th and Montana on Sunday as an Attractive Young Newcomer made the scene wearing what appeared to be a doily around her waist. "Is it my imagination, or is she wearing a doily?," I asked. Cathy chuckled. "That's a doily, alright" she replied, "But I doubt any of your readers would know what a doily is." A doily, according to dictionary.com, is "any small, ornamental mat, as of embroidery or lace" or "a small napkin, as one used during a dessert course." Years ago, doilies were used to protect wooden furniture, but seeing one now, reincarnated as a dress, made me think of a cross between Arsenic and Old Lace and the Mod Squad. To the fashion plate responsible, I have just one comment, it's not a bad look, but Whistler's Mother called and she wants her napkin back!
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