Cops Hear Siren Song of Starbucks


Think all cops hang out in doughnut shops guzzling bad coffee and artery-clogging, sugar-laden doughnuts? Well, there’s a new breed on the horizon, and they’re not settling for jelly-filled anymore.

The other day we spotted two detectives sauntering into the Starbucks on Larchmont, guns conspicuously shoved into their waistbands. They were joining the ranks of caffeine-deprived yuppies, in for their daily fix of gourmet java and scones.

Yes, it’s a new breed of cop. Tough. Macho. And able to tell his Sulawesi from his Sumatra and his Kenya from his Kona.


Does Steven Bochco know about this?


Green Yellow Pages: You know that commercial for a brand of yellow pages where the announcer challenges people on the street to find something not in the book?

He’s finally met his match.

The Natural Resource Directory of Greater Los Angeles bills itself as “the Healthy Yellow Pages” and features such listings as “Aura & Chakra Clearing & Restructuring,” “Brain Integration,” “Psychic Healing,” “Shamanism” and--our personal favorite--”Exorcism.” Don’t think we’ve seen that in any regular yellow pages recently.

The directory has its share of mundane headings, such as “Crafts, “Lighting” and “Janitorial Services,” but everything has a natural, eco-friendly twist. A pet care shop offers “holistic preparations” and all-natural foods for your pooch or kitty. And a business consulting firm assures: “We design & spec all our jobs with the environment in mind.”

We’re assuming the exorcisms don’t produce any toxic chemicals.


Pillow Talk: “What does every 5-year-old girl want?” we asked the clerk at the toy store, desperate for a gift for our friend’s little girl.

“Bedtime Barbie is very big,” he advised, and we figured he knew.

But upon examining Bedtime Barbie, we were a little distressed by her totally limp, pliable body. Sure, she had the perky, smiley face we were used to, but where was the rigid plastic that makes Barbie . . . Barbie?

How can Barbie tool down to Malibu in her convertible when she’s as flaccid as a wet noodle? How can she dance at the ball if her legs look atrophied?


This Barbie is no role model, we said. Even Glitter Barbie, with her preoccupation with putting gobs of sparkly goo in her hair, can at least stand up straight.

We fear for the young girls of America. Not only that . . . what’s Ken going to think?