CHAIR AND CHAIR ALIKE ... AT 7TH AND MONTANA!

It was three chairs for Bob and Joyce at 7^th and Montana last week as they started a new trend at Our Favorite Starbucks:  Bring your own chairs.  Why?  Because bit-by-bit over the last several months the Starbucks 'patio' chairs have been disappearing ... and those that remain are so old they're practically growing rusticles.  Folks have complained, both locally and via the Starbucks website, but so far no one has done anything about it.  Some blame the city, saying there are certain restrictions on outdoor seating.  This may be true, but it doesn't explain why chairs that have broken or gone missing at Starbucks haven't been replaced.  I ran a count this morning, comparing the outdoor seating at Starbucks with other cafes with the same amount of sidewalk space on Montana and the discrepancies are striking:  Our Favorite Starbucks has only 10 chairs left outside.  Peet's, just blocks away, has nearly twice that amount and Groundworks -- are you sitting down? -- has a whopping 51 chairs outside, plus a bench that seats three.  Perhaps we should alert the Starbucks Chair Man ...?

ONE LUMP OR TWO ... AT 7TH AND MONTANA!

Ladies and Gentlemen, meet the Sugar Mama, a local loon without equal at 7^th and Montana.  Actually, she has lots of Equal … and that’s just the problem.  Every morning, she makes a beeline for the artificial sweetener and Equal is her brand of choice.  She doesn’t just put it in her coffee.  She stuffs packets of it – one after another – into her mouth and eats them whole, wrapper and all.  Sometimes she’ll down more than seven packets in a single sitting.  “You’ve got to admire her technique,” I said, “She somehow manages to chomp all that paper – together with the artificial sweetener -- without making a single sound.”  Here’s how she does it:  She folds the packets into tiny squares, then quickly pops them into her mouth and nibbles like crazy.  “That’s one way to get your fiber,” said Joyce.  Some say she puts the sugar in meshugenah, but I say to each their own.  If she wants to make an aspartame of herself, that’s her business …!

A-LOON AT LAST ... AT 7TH AND MONTANA!

Watch your step, folks, there’s a new loon in town.  Meet the Admiral, a man who can’t resist screaming “Old Navy” for no apparent reason at five-minute intervals.  I first noticed him yesterday, standing at the doorway of Our Favorite Starbucks.  “Old Navy?,” he asked me.  “Gap,” I replied, brushing passed him.  Banana Republic might have been more appropriate.  Twenty minutes later, he flew into a rage.  “OLD NAVY!,” he shrieked, gesturing wildly and toppling over a trash can.  “Take that!,” he continued, throwing a chair on the sidewalk and kicking someone’s bicycle.  By this point, I had assumed the standard 7^th and Montana Loon position:  “Duck your head down and stare intently at the floor.  Don’t make any sudden movements.”  “Money, Money, Money!” the Admiral screamed.  Neighbor Johnny gave him 50 cents, which seemed to make matters worse.  Starbucks management called the police, who carted him away faster than you can say “Urban Outfitters.”  He was last seen shopping for something in stripes …  

A PHOTO FINISH ... AT 7TH AND MONTANA!

It was ‘Yakety-Yakety-Yak’ at 7^th and Montana on Sunday as a visitor from Finland made the scene, intent on Skyping up a storm on his iPad.  At first, his loud babbling was merely annoying, but after about 45-minutes I wanted to tell him to go to Hell-sinki.  Finally, Kovar interrupted him long enough to get the scoop.  “What language is that?,” he asked.  “It’s Finnish,” said the Newcomer, “It's very distinct, isn't it?”  “I just wish he’d Finish,” muttered Cathy.  But the conversation went on and on.  I don’t know what sort of manners they teach across the pond, but something tells me this guy could use a few semesters at a good Finishing School …

URINE FOR A TREAT ... AT 7TH AND MONTANA!

Bladders were bursting at 7th and Montana this morning as an Anonymous Newcomer known as "Dr. Leaky" left a few souvenirs in front of Our Favorite Starbucks:  Three glasses and a carton filled with urine.  "Eureka!," I cried, "At long last an end to the News Drought!"  And the story gets better.  Evidently, someone left a single glass of urine in the same spot yesterday.  Stay tuned, folks, something tells me we're in for a gusher tomorrow ...!

DUMBBELL ... AT 7TH AND MONTANA!

Boy do I feel like a dumbbell.  There I was at 7th and Montana this morning, tempting fate, commenting on how quiet it has been lately, when the floodgates opened.  "Gee," I said, "We haven't had any loons around here for a while."  And it's true.  Except for the growing pile of dog feces at 7th and Georgina, it's been a pretty quiet summer.  And then it happened.  An Anonymous Loon headed my way screeching "Rivers of Blood, Rivers of Blood."  He was a thin, young man in his mid-twenties with a crazy glint in his eye and a baseball cap on his head.  He carried a dumbbell in one hand, wrapped in paper, which he used for emphasis, much like a professor with a pointer.  "Only  the Pure Bloods will survive," he cried, "Hells-a-poppin'!"  He babbled on and on breathlessly for 20-minutes.  "Maybe he gets paid by the word," I said.  And then the police arrived, donned their rubber gloves and escorted him away.  Whether he was on drugs or just unstable, I hope he gets some help.  Meanwhile, next time I start wondering why it's been so quiet at Our Favorite Starbucks, I'll keep my mouth shut ...

OFFICER ON DOODY ... AT 7TH AND GEORGINA!

Sirens were blaring near Our Favorite Starbucks this week as police finally responded to mounting evidence of a scandal at 608 Georgina.  Here’s the poop:  For weeks, someone has been depositing little plastic bags filled with dog poop in a fenced-off area intended to protect a palm tree during construction.  The bags have been piling-up, layer-upon-layer, faster than you can say Shit Mountain.  No sooner does one batch petrify, than another accumulates on top of it.  Police have been nosing around for days now trying to identify a suspect known among locals as ‘the Poopmeister.’  Some say he’s just trying to get attention, but I think he has a loftier goal in mind.  He’s building a Stairway to Paradise … with a new step every day!

WOMEN AND CHILDREN, FIRST? ... AT 7TH AND MONTANA!

"My owner went on a Caribbean Cruise, but all I got was this lousy life-saver."  If dogs could talk, that's what this sullen Bernese Mountain Dog would have said yesterday when she made the scene at 7th and Montana looking like a refugee from the S.S. Minnow.  Rumor has it she was wearing an inflatable life-saver around her neck to prevent her from licking herself after surgery, but I know the real story.  She was gearing-up for a trip to the 'poop deck' at 608 Georgina ...!

NO COMMON SCENTS ... AT 7TH AND MONTANA!

My nose for news was working overtime at 7th and Montana this morning, thanks to the arrival of a mysterious stranger wearing an even more mysterious perfume.  Kathy was the first to notice it, and she wasted no time trying to identify its source.  "You smell sweet," she said to Robin, who was standing nearby.  Sweet was an understatement.  It was the floral equivalent of a caramel-coated, sugar-frosted fudge ball.  "It's not me," Robin whispered, "It's him."  Sure enough, the smell was emanating from a man standing at the condiments bar.  It followed him out the door like a cotton candy miasma.  I don't know where this guy gets his fashion advice, but someone should tell him it's time to change the Chanel ...!

PILE-UP ... AT 7th AND MONTANA!

It was crash, boom, bam this morning at 7th and Montana as a three car pile-up blocked traffic near Our Favorite Starbucks.  The problem began when a silver Cavalier screeched through a red light and took a left on Montana, leaving a trail of chaos in its wake.  Other motorists slammed on the brakes.  A Prius plowed into a truck and a Lexis plowed into the Prius.  Fortunately, no one was injured.  The driver who caused the incident was nowhere to be found.

And that wasn't the only pile-up in town.  Evidence is mounting in the local scandal known as Poop-Gate.  Just who, exactly, has been leaving little bags of poop near the corner of 7th and Georgina?  Stay tuned ...! 

POTS AND PANTS ... AT 7TH AND MONTANA!

Eyes were popping at 7th and Montana this morning as an Anonymous Newcomer made the scene wearing an outfit that gives new meaning to the term 'fashion plate.'  She wore a pair of baggy pants that were festooned with plates, teapots and various bits of floating breakfast food.  "Now there's some food for thought," said one witness.  As for me, I admired her honesty.  "Finally," I said, "Someone who really means it when she says that everything she eats goes straight to her ass ...!" 

BLANKET COVERAGE ... AT 7TH AND MONTANA!

It was a cover-up of massive proportions at 7^th and Montana yesterday as an Anonymous Loon rolled his dog up in two blankets – like a Canine Burrito -- and placed it on one of the only remaining chairs at Our Favorite Starbucks.  “Life is ruff,” I said, searching for a place to sit, “Maybe I’ll just go crouch by the fire hydrant in case nature calls.”  The dog and owner, for their part, remained so motionless I wondered whether rigor mortis was setting in.  Some say I should forget the whole thing, let sleeping dogs lie, but I think we need to draw the line somewhere.  After all, if we allow this kind of behavior to persist, who knows what we'll see next ... Pigs in a Blanket?!?

 

TRASH TALK ... AT 7TH AND MONTANA!

The crowd at 7th and Montana was 'Down in the Dumps' this week as evidence mounted that the city's new recycling effort -- the installation of solar powered trash and recycling bins -- is a sham.  Starting last year, Santa Monica spent a small fortune to install a series of Big Belly trash and recycling containers in highly-visible locations all over town.  The concept is intriguing:  You just put your recyclables in a solar -powered container, and they are automatically compacted and stored until the City can collect them.  A built-in sensor even alerts the sanitation department when it's trash collection time.  Kim Braun -- Santa Monica's resource recovery and recycling manager -- crowed about the program in media interviews last year:  Solar Powered Trash Cans Talk to the City.  The only problem is, ever since these high-fallutin' trash cans were installed on Montana Avenue, witness after witness has seen the trash collectors mix recyclables with other trash and haul it all away together.  One worker, when asked about it, simply said, "Sorry, we don't have the proper trash bags to actually recycle."  Do town officials think we're all so Green that we won't notice a hoax when we see one?  Or are they too busy doing media interviews on how Green we are to clean up their act ...? 

HAT TRICK ... AT 7TH AND MONTANA!

Ladies and Gentlemen, meet the Hatless Wonder, an anonymous member of the Table Hog clan who spent much of his weekend wondering where his hat was.  He came by my table on Saturday, munching a banana, and looking like a lost soul.  "Has anyone seen my hat?, he asked.  There was something desperate in his tone, almost as if his hat had been in cahoots with his frontal lobe and, together, they'd flown the coop.  "Finally," I thought, "A chance to win back at least one of the chairs he and his friends were hogging.  "I saw it ... It went that-a-way!," I cried, pointing towards Peets.  But he saw right through me and so did his friends.  Hat's off to them, I guess ...  

TOPIARY-GATE: THE SAGA CONTINUES!

Day 23 of the growing scandal known as Topiary-Gate has brought with it an interesting new twist.  The topiaries, long abandoned on the sidewalk near 7th and Alta, have been thrown into the street and in their place is a Teepee of Schmutz.  Evidently, the new owners of the fake Italian Villa have moved their dead plants onto the street in order to make way for a pile of broken plastic toys and branches.  Where do these people come from, anyway, Upper Slob-ovia ...?!?

TOPIARY-GATE ... !

It's Day 12 and there's no relief in sight in the local scandal insiders are calling Topiary-gate.  It seems like just yesterday that newcomers moved into the Fake Italian Villa near the corner of 7th and Alta.  At first I thought, "Great, new neighbors, perhaps they'll put down some roots."  But no.  These people did the reverse.  Shortly after their arrival, they uprooted a pair of decorative topiaries that once flanked their front door and tossed them onto the sidewalk for all of us to enjoy.  12 days later, the dead husks remain.  I say we stage a protest.  Let's take all the dead plants and uprooted weeds in a five block radius, throw them into a giant welcome wagon and wheel the whole mess into their front yard ...! 

THE BUNNY MOBILE ... AT 7TH AND MONTANA!

Cheers erupted at 7th and Montana yesterday as an Anonymous Motorist circled the block in a pimped-out Bunny Mobile.  The vintage, bright pink and purple Cadillac -- complete with tail fins and faux rocket boosters -- looked like something Peter Cottontail might use to cruise Sunset Strip.  "Now that's what I call an Easter Parade," said one witness.  Some say the driver, who drove past Our Favorite Starbucks twice, was just looking for attention, but I think his repeat visits were entirely appropriate.  It was, after all, a day for Second Comings ...

YOU SAY GOODBYE ... AT 7TH AND MONTANA!

Ladies and Gentlemen, meet the Fool on the Hill, an anonymous musician who made the scene at 7th and Montana this morning with a message for us all and a medley of Beatles tunes in his heart.  "Help!," I said, "Looks like this one has a John Lennon fixation."  He rode in on a van festooned with conspiracy theories about John Lennon's death and carried signs promising to reveal the Truth.  "So," I asked him as he strummed his guitar and sang an off-key rendition of 'All You Need is Love,' "What's with the Magical Mystery Tour?"  "We're all Satanic," he cried, "You're Satanic;  I'm Satanic;  We're all a bunch of blood-sucking, Satanic vampires attracted to a vortex of Evil!"  I glanced briefly at the pastry case and considered his theory, then backed away quietly.  Sometimes it's best to just Let it Be ...

JUNGLE FEVER ... AT 7TH AND MONTANA!

It's a jungle out there, folks, and if you don't believe me, just ask the pair of Stone Lions that made the scene this morning in front of Our Favorite Starbucks.  I wasn't there for the mane event, but rumor has it a very confused delivery man was circling the block all morning looking for the lost Library of Alexandria.  He was close, but no cigars.  The parchment in Alexandria went up in flames more than 2,000 years ago.  The parchment at 7th and Montana has been cleverly protected for years in its own, special display case ...

A TOUCH OF HEAVEN ... AT 7TH AND MONTANA!

Eyes were popping at 7th and Montana this morning as an Anonymous Wing-nut made the scene wearing a pair of wings and a fuzzy halo.  The Wing-nut, an attractive young woman in her early twenties, breezed into Starbucks during the morning rush, flitted briefly around the pastry case like an Angel of Mercy, then disappeared faster than you can say Morning Bun.  Some say she was heaven sent, but I know the real truth:  She's just another escapee from the Aviary at 7th and Margarita ...!