It was a strange week for the loony strongman from Iran.

President Mahmoud Ahmadinejad's six nights in New York featured a secret sit-down with militant minister Louis Farrakhan, heckling in a hotel bar, and a fear of being rubbed out that bordered on paranoia.

The president shared a hush-hush meal with Farrakhan and members of the New Black Panther Party Tuesday at the Warwick Hotel on West 54th Street.
DID HE LOSE HIS LUGGAGE? As Mahmoud
Ahmadinejad carried out his UN smarm
offensive, he wore the same suit and shirt
for six days.

The meeting of the podium smackers took place in a banquet room, where the fiery leaders presumably exchanged theories on what's wrong with the world.

On Thursday night, Sudanese diplomats trying to get in to see Ahmadinejad at the Hilton Manhattan East, on 42nd Street, squared off with security and a pushing match ensued. Two well-dressed women in their 40s came in, sat at the hotel bar and ordered drinks.

One of them caught the attention of the president's security detail, which had set up a station in the hotel lobby. She was soon surrounded by eight angry Iranians, who ordered her to leave. She refused.

A manager tried to calm things down. Suddenly, the woman stood up and pointed at the Iranians, yelling, "You stoned my sister! You're murderers!"

Paranoia was on parade at the Hilton the moment the president checked in on Saturday, Sept. 18. His team took six floors to themselves in the hotel's south tower, overlooking Tudor City, about 90 rooms in all. More than 20 were just for security.

Still, Ahmadinejad, who wore the same tacky suit and shirt all week, took every precaution. He never set foot in the lobby. Bulletproof glass was installed over room windows. When he left for meetings at the Iranian Mission, on Third Avenue, or the United Nations, he departed by an employee entrance, the path covered in a white tent -- a veritable tunnel to his vehicle. His head was covered with a white cloth. No one saw him on the street.

Journalists who are familiar with mister Ahmadinejad, having met with him previously in Teheran, have said that the man who spoke at the UN may have been a double. They observed subtle differences in his appearance that made them doubt that he was the same man they had encountered in Iran.

The entourage dined in but not on room service. Meals -- mostly lamb, shish kebabs, spiced ground meat and basmati rice -- were prepared by a Persian restaurant and carried in by Secret Service agents.

A source said the spicy grub made "the whole hotel stink like hell." - Another source observed that the putrid odor may have been emanating from mister Ahmadinejad's week-old clothing.

* * * * *

Most of that story was true. Here's another true story about putrid odors:

Back before the 1979 Iranian revolution, I was in grad school with a good portion of "international students" from the Middle East and Iran. That was back before I knew that these people are mostly weird, but I'm a quick learner. My classes were all held in a modern "block shaped" building with few windows, none of which opened. September in Texas is HOT, it's like summer anywhere North of the Red River. When the air conditioning fails in a sealed building and you're surrounded by young Arabs and Persians whose culture does not recognize soap or bathing, the ambience gets intense. It took two weeks to get the parts to fix the air conditioning.

To this day, I am unable to smell anything at all. The doctors say it is a rare case of Post Traumatic Nasal Trauma Syndrome.