OH, THE THINGS YOU'LL SEE IN ATLANTA.

Byline: Michael Ventre Daily News Staff Writer

I saw a man today videotaping a horse's behind. Honest.

He was in a crouch, looking into the eye piece of his camera and jogging along briskly behind two horses, who were being ridden by two local gendarmes.

I wanted to ask why he was doing it, but I would have had to jog after him. And I figured, what's worse, a man jogging and videotaping a horse's behind, or me running after him?

That's just one of the odd sights here in the gumbo of humanity that has become downtown Atlanta. Every few steps down a city street, you either run into a pin vendor, or a giant inflatable product. If a gust of wind should somehow cause the two to meet, look out.

The weather Thursday was hot, but not the kind of Cool Hand Luke hot that has been advertised. Yes, perspiration does tend to trickle down your face after a block or two, but every building's air-conditioning is turned up so high that you could throw a raw chicken breast inside a door and it'll keep for weeks.

Pin vendors are rampant. There are literally thousands of them. Coca-Cola has something called the Pin Trading Center, where you are not allowed to buy pins, only trade them. How do you get pins in the first place? You have to go to a store to buy them. Then you come to the trading center to trade them. Why everybody just doesn't go to stores and buy them, eliminating that second step, is not entirely clear. I hope there isn't some individual twisted enough to try and collect the whole set.

Some of the pin people are a bit on the eccentric side. Some actually wear vests and hats festooned completely with Olympic pins. That means they are so devoted to pins that they're willing to wear extra clothing in 100-degree heat just to accommodate more of the little suckers. They could probably use an ice-cold Coca-Cola.

And I know just where they can get one: Everywhere!

Coca-Cola must have spent $500 billion on these games. Instead of passing batons, don't be surprised if relay racers pass Coke bottles. You would probably need a private detective to track down a Pepsi around here.

Coca-Cola has its own city. Coca-Cola City. Everything has the Coca-Cola logo on it. Even garbage cans. And there isn't an item in the Coca-Cola Gift Shop within Coca-Cola City that doesn't have the Coca-Cola logo on it. If I saw someone walking down the street wearing a Coke shirt, a Coke hat and carrying a commemorative Coke mug, I think I'd ask him what time the tour of the bottling plant starts.

The Centennial Olympic Village, located smack dab in the heart of downtown, is loaded with folks in shorts and T-shirts enjoying the spectacle of giant product signs everywhere. Swatch. AT&T. Bud. You name it, it's here. When you walk through the gates, you're tempted to look for a shopping cart.

Live music blasts from a giant stage. Kids frolic in a fountain, ignoring an admonishment from a loudspeaker that shoes are required, and no pushing and shoving are allowed. And the streams of patrons to the merchandise Superstore are nonstop.

Traffic is minimal, but so are your chances of getting from one part of town to another in less than two hours. The weak link in the entire organization of these Summer Games is the shuttle service. I waited two hours after my flight arrived, only to have two youngsters with no knowledge of the area and a map get completely lost. I finally hopped out and took a taxi. I wouldn't be surprised if the shuttle driver wound up doing the same thing.

The streets are crowded not with vehicles, but with spectators. And occasionally, a horse will walk by. I waved goodbye to two of them after I concluded my brief tour Thursday. But I wasn't sure if it was the same two. I couldn't recognize them from the front.

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Photo: A workman hanging an Olympic Flag at Fulton County Stadium wa s just one of the wonderful sights around Atlanta on Thursday.

Associated Press