GOP's Scott Walker hits cheesesteak rivals

The three black town cars stopped next to Pat's King of Steaks, but Wisconsin Gov. Scott Walker first strolled up Passyunk Avenue to Geno's Steaks, where Geno Vento waited with an open hand.

The men posed for a photo Tuesday afternoon with a gaggle of media and confused tourists as audience. Vento then escorted Walker, one of 16 Republican candidates for president, to the front of the line.

"Who is that?" a customer asked. Another told Walker to wait in line. One took Walker's photo and asked an onlooker, "How do you spell his name? He's a Democrat, right?"

The Pennsylvania primary is not until April, but Walker chose Philadelphia as a destination for the conclusion of his three-week announcement tour. The next stop is in crucial Iowa, on Friday. But, first, a cheesesteak. Or two.

"No onions," Walker advised Vento.

"You want to order, or me?" Vento said.

Walker brandished a $10 bill. American cheese and no onions, he said.

"I figured, if you're running for president, you have to go with American," Walker said as he chose a table with three South Philadelphians.

He talked to them about the economy and about his Monday night drinking Schlitz with voters at a bar in Chicago.

"Mmm, this is good," Walker said between bites. He had ordered whiz once before, but it was messy.

Then again, so was the event that vaulted him to national prominence: his showdown with public-employee unions over curbing their collective-bargaining rights in the name of protecting Wisconsin taxpayers' pocketbooks. In a crowded GOP field, Walker is positioning himself as a hard-nosed fiscal conservative who gets results and speaks plain English - a strategy that made sense to the woman munching a steak wit' next to him at Geno's.

"He's a guy you can talk to on your level," said Suzanne Rossomando, 71, who was late for work at Di Bruno Bros. because of her visit with Walker. "He's not up-here. He's on our level to explain things. He's a go-getter. That's what we need."

As Walker and Rossomando ate, Jon Cronin snuck in and found a spot behind them. The 23-year-old South Philly resident and his friend, Daniel Baggarly, also 23, held up protest signs that made butt jokes about Walker.

The two insisted they weren't sent by rival campaigns or causes, but represented the "dissatisfied American electorate."

A Walker aide quickly climbed a nearby red bench to block the signs. Walker did not look.

"If you want to make a case in November 2016 that you care about people's votes, you can't just show up a couple months before," he said of his visit. "You have to make the case early on. We're here in Philadelphia. We've been in Pittsburgh and other parts of the commonwealth because we care about votes here in the state of Pennsylvania. We'll keep coming back."

After a half-hour at Geno's, Walker crossed the street to Pat's. "You suck," a man in a white truck on South Ninth Street yelled at Walker. The driver then screamed Democratic candidate Bernie Sanders' name a few times.

At Pat's, Walker ordered the same cheesesteak, and sat down at a table with two men. They talked baseball. Walker glowed when one of the men referenced Philadelphia's place in American history.

"It's really something that has inspired me over the years to do the sort of things we've done in Wisconsin, and hopefully do that for the nation," Walker said. "So I'm glad to be here."

The first Republican presidential debate, limited to the top 10 in national polls, is next week in Cleveland. Walker said his preparation started six months ago. The field is muddled.

"If you have a 10-person debate, you're not trying to figure out who you can attack," Walker said. "You just want to spend your time talking to the voters."

He greeted Greg Hill, a website builder from Katy, Texas, who said he was "driving through for a sandwich."

"He's actually been able to change government," Hill, 58, said. "That's the main thing that I want when I vote for president. I'm looking for somebody who is going to be able to change Washington."

The fun part of this, Walker said, was eating his way through America. He wrapped up his unfinished meal from Pat's. Shook a few more hands.

Which lunch was better?

"Well, who do I love more, my son Matt or my son Alex?" Walker said, smiling. "It's kind of the same question, right?"

Iowa awaited. Walker passed the puzzled tourists and the crude signs. He departed Philadelphia, after less than an hour schmoozing with voters, with a half-eaten cheesesteak.

With American.

215-854-2928 @MattGelb