A drunk guy walking a bicycle stops in front of a bar -- bar and very nice restaurant, actually, the Metropolitan on Charles Street in Federal Hill.

There, dining al fresco, are a couple in their 50s, and their border collie mix – Jack, Jake, something like that.

The drunk guy, smitten with the pooch, stops to pet him, totally forgetting about his bicycle, which crashes to the ground. He picks it up, leans it against a tree and pets the dog some more.

Eventually, he sits down at the table with the couple, even though he hasn’t exactly been invited, and keeps petting the dog, which the couple is glad to tell him about. They debate what breeds might be in the dog and talk about border collies in general.

After 10 minutes or so, the drunk guy leaves, a little wobbly on the bicycle, but apparently he just circles the block. Three minutes later he is back, petting Jack, or Jake, some more while he straddles the bike in the middle of the sidewalk, forcing passersby to detour.

He asks if he can give the dog something to eat. The couple, finished with dinner by then, has nothing to offer, so the drunk guy takes off again, saying he’ll be right back. He heads for the convenience store two blocks away.

Three minutes later, he’s back again, takes a seat at the table with the two previously complete strangers, and, with their permission, starts feeding their dog a Slim Jim. Then another Slim Jim. At one point, he breaks off a piece and holds in it his mouth, letting the dog tug it loose.

By then, the upscale-looking couple has ordered a round of shots, one for each of them, and one for the drunken, slightly less upscale-looking, dog-lover.

When last seen, they were talking away, hoisting those drinks – the husband and wife and the drunk guy, with Jack, or Jake, finishing off his Slim Jims, at their feet.

And that is why I love Baltimore.