Dario

Part of NOMENCLATURE's Galleria Series: Nov. 9 - 12

I buy a gyro from Flaming Gyros and attempt to pay with my debit card. The large man behind the counter says that if I pay with cash, he's willing to give me the gyro combo for $5 instead of $6. He mumbles something about the card not going into his account until Monday. I fish in my wallet, knowing I only have $4. I tell him this. He does not say yes or no, but goes about making my meal. He comes from the kitchen with a nice looking sandwich. I give him all my money but he asks for fifty cents, something to get a little closer to the $5. I don't have it. I just don't. Then I tell him I can pay him the other $2 next week. He does not say yes or no but gives me the food and a small drink.

From my usual table in the upper middle of the Galleria, I look down on Dario Fashion Group. Yet another day where not one soul will even give the place a glance, I think. Today, though, an old man in a trench coat and large plastic rim glasses walks along the outside perimeter of Dario. He cases the suits hanging side-by-side-by-side in the display window. He ponders for a long time in front of the sign advertising a ridiculous sale on fine suits. He walks to the entrance and stares inside for a while longer, then decides to keep going, it seems. He walks past the door.

I deflate a little, disappointed that he did not take the leap. Then, inexplicably, the old man turns around and walks into the store. I am shocked. The hair stands up on the back of my neck. I expect to see the man come out any second, but no one else comes in or out.

This signifies a golden opportunity for me, as I have wanted to browse Dario for some time, but have always been off put that no one is ever in there. Today, though, I could walk in and overwhelm the clerk with business.

-- Two in one day, he would say, must be Black freaking Friday.

But the gyro has left me feeling greasy and nebulous. Beard month has me looking haggard, listless, like a derelict. This is not the day to shop for suits.

More time passes and I realize it is time for me to return to work, so I toss my pop in the trash can, take a quick look at the Lakefront Hullet Plan and mosey out of there, gyro shifting back and forth inside me.