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!