Deco is smart...he knows that when he gets back to the Escalade in South Beach that the A/C would have been 'removed' from the car..might be lucky to have wheels...and the parking lot was 'secure'... NiN
Well now I have heard it all. A former ET poster and NQ trader, N.Q. Enqueue, contacted me to say that he was inspired by this thread, and informed by his fab fashion sense, to offer consulting to sartorially-challenged North Texans on what to wear to the Expo when it is in Dallas. He said to me, with only the faintest hint of a lisp, "Mercy me! They won't know any better than to give us a bad name in better circles by showing up in overalls with no shirt, baggy cargo pants, or Bermuda shorts with dress socks! That would never do in Vegas! Or even back laid L.A.! So tell them to come to ME, and I will put them in Pucci Gucci and all the latest styles! Oh! And the North Texas smells! Straight (pardon the expression) from the stables! I will take them to Neimans and find them JUST the right scent! And remember, if you look good, you trade good!" Alas, even N.Q. couldn't help my look. I'll be there in tacky khaki cargo shorts, an oversized tee not tucked in (all the better to hide the big piece my CHL privilege obliges me to carry), anklets (no lace), and Skechers. And if you are an Outlander planning to come slumming, bear in mind that statistically speaking, one in very forty adults you meet is packing. So be nice. And definitely don't say I look very butch. I can't help it.
I cleaned up this morning, not too hard since Saturday was just two days ago, and made my way to the offices of Cobra Trading in Allen Texas. La receptioniste looked a bit edgy, probably needing it but not getting any. Not my reason to be there, though, I'm on a guerilla mission. "Hello!", I said brightly. "Is Mr. Deco, Mr. Art Deco, here yet?" She blanched. "OMG! You KNOW him? He IS coming, isn't he! I've been told under no circumstances to let him in, and to call Allen Sanitation when he comes! Quick! What does he look like?", she pleaded. "Well, I don't know him that well, he is just my life coach, but if a fat bald old guy shows up wearing an OD tee shirt, baggy overalls, and pink ballet slippers, and smelling like he just rummaged through a dumpster, he just might be your man!" Whereupon I left, saying, "Oops, must be off to Cru for a quick champagne flight and a cheese plate! My name is Sid Gautama. I'll be back in a bit to wait for old Art. Do your best to be Miss Prim-and-Proper and not set him off. He's an amorous drunk, so I'm told."