Baltimore police and agents with the Maryland Comptroller's Office raided the Colonial Inn on Eastern Avenue and Washington Street this afternoon and hauled away three video gaming machines that authorities said were used for illegal gambling.

I watched the operation and here are some random obversations. Don't ask me what they mean:

The bar itself is a dingy, dirty rowhouse that has the feel of an unfinished basement. The owner, Leroy Hartman, said a $30 profit is a good night. He might have been exaggerating.

A sign outside proudly proclaims: "We have $1.00 beers." Specials were being offered on Milwaukee's Best and Miller. There were six taps inside the bar, all Budweiser. When police went in, patrons had to go out, leaving their drinks behind. Looks like the special was popular -- there were six half-empy Milwaukee's Best cans lined up. One person had been drinking Coors -- with a straw.

The "no loitering" sign, required at all bars, was attached to the building, hanging on the second story.

The bar shares a street with a small grocery that advertises "American Food," a podiatrist and a funeral home. Directly across the street is Chubbies, a strip club that was having its grand opening and whose bouncers and patrons didn't exactly like the police officers and television cameraman being so close. The club -- sorry, the "gentleman's club" -- had Christmas wreaths hanging from its second-floor windows, where the women dance.

While police were inside the bar, a young woman carrying an infant stood directly in front of Chubbies, and peeked in from time to time. After about 15 minutes, an embarassed man emerged and walked to a house a few doors down, the young mother screaming at him all the way.

A man approached the detectives and offered to buy them sodas. They declined. He then asked, "Does that female still work for you?" A confused officer said yes, and the man shot back, "Good, I just love her," and walked away.

The Colonial Inn's regulars were none to pleased to give up two hours of prime drinking time for the police. They sat outside and waited, and some kept going to the door only to be shooed away by an officer. One woman showed up in a pink shirt adorned with a tic-tac-toe board with dollar signs and fruit instead of x's and o's. "Las Vegas" was stripped across the top.

"Do you like my shirt," she yelled, denying she ever gambled. "When can I go inside?" she shouted.

Finally, the police drove off, the three video machines strapped to the back of a Ford F-150 pickup. Reporters went inside to talk to the owner. When we emerged, the woman in the pink shirt was waiting.

"Can we go in now?" she asked.

"Sure," I shrugged.

"Bless you," she answered, giving me a hug. I shrugged off her attempt to give me a kiss.