Grim Repercussions
I think I met Dino when I was still a route rep. for Domestic Uniform; he being hired on as a service manager and “officially” becoming one of my bosses after I’d been working there for at least a year or so already. We hit it off right away so the typical master/slave dynamics typical for the Reagan-era workplace never manifested themselves with us. Still, we didn’t really got to know each other all that well until I promoted myself, with Dino’s encouragement, to service manager as well. He became my trainer for the position, allowing the two of us to become co-conspirators at Domestic, along with good friends.
We hung out quite a bit after work, often catching meals together, grabbing coffees, and attending gigs. The latter featuring mostly Americana/alt.country bands in small bars, located in bad neighborhoods on the north side of Chicago. One of our favorite bands was “The Blacks.”
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2g7H4KmR-8I
Dino had a thing for the tall, willowy female bass player, which meant he was my go-to guy whenever I needed a sidekick for one of their shows. He was also help in case there was any trouble in the bar or outside of it.
I remember one incident occurring before we made it into the Double Door (http://chicago.metromix.com/venues/mmxchi-double-door-venue), a punk-friendly club located in what was then a rough Wicker Park. I was about to back into a prime marking space on Milwaukee Avenue, when a yuppie asshole in a pricey SUV pulled into the spot my car was obviously going to occupy. As soon as the guy parked, he jumped out, gave us the finger, and rather hurriedly headed up the street.
I was furious. So was Dino. We vowed revenge. So after finding a less-desirable spot down and around on a poorly lit sidestreet, Dino and I returned to the scene of the crime. Still angry, I ended up taking the knife I carried and slit and stabbed each of the SUV’s tires, producing a wonderful hissing sound. Satisfied, we headed for the gig, only to discover that the bouncer/ticket-taker was the owner of the SUV I had just damaged! Sure, we felt a little guilty; but as far as we were concerned, the guy had it coming.
Before too long, I started hearing about Dino’s marriage. Turned out that he had recently married a woman of Mexican descent, who was very tight with her family, most of which still lived south of the border. Her name was Irma, and seemed to always be in Mexico. Supposedly visiting. Thus I think I met her twice during the couple of years that Dino and I remained friends. She was petite, pretty, and not very friendly. None of that changed when he and her ended up moving into the same building as me over in Lincoln Square either. They lived directly downstairs but I rarely saw them around. In fact, once we began sharing the same address, I rarely saw Dino outside of work. It was as if his wife had deemed me an unfit friend. Of course Dino denied any of this, but I knew something wasn’t right. Then I got thinking. And I soon realized that the only times Dino and I hung out were when Irma was visiting family and friends in Mexico. Says a lot, I thought.
Well, much more to their relationship was to be revealed later.
My Catholicism was a constant topic of conversation for us. I soon learned that Irma was also Catholic and that her faith, along with my devotion to mine, was leading Dino to seriously consider converting. He was raised Greek Orthodox but wasn’t a follower. He was, however, an avid listener to “Catholic Family Radio,” a long-defunct radio station in Chicago that featured Catholic-friendly programming for most of the day. He and I both loved the station and often discussed various programs that were offered there.
After Dino’s conversion, it seemed like I began to see the two of them together more often, in and around the neighborhood. While clearly close, I also noticed that they bickered a lot. And both of them seemed to have pretty nasty tempers, which would occasionally lead to hallway gossiping about the yelling and screaming that came from their place the night before. This, I discovered, was caused by jealousy on both of their parts. Neither trusted the other; and both assumed that the other was constantly flirting or coming-on to a member of the opposite sex — with little or no evidence to support the claim. On the one of perhaps two occasions that the three of us hung out, Dino nearly got into a fist fight with some young dude whom he had accused of giving Irma the “once over” on Lincoln Avenue, just down the block from our building. It was ridiculous.
Eventually I ended up moving out of the building to live with my soon-to-be wife, and Dino ended up quitting his job at Domestic. This meant we saw very little of each other. But after about a year and a half, I received a phone call from Dino, asking me if I would be a sponsor for the adoption of two Russian children that he and Irma wanted. I was immediately hesitant. Not because I thought Dino would be a poor parent, but because I knew so little about Irma. And, quite frankly, what I did know did not impress me. So despite a LOT of pressure, I politely and regretfully declined the offer, telling him that I could not in good conscience vouch for Irma’s character, parenting abilities, etc., which, as one might imagine, led to a complete and utter falling out between us.
Somehow, someway, however, the couple adopted two very young Russian children, a boy and a girl. Must have cost them a fortune. Must have been frustrating. And while I’m sure Dino grew to be a very good father, Irma, unfortunately, had some difficulty with becoming a mother. In fact, her lack of mothering skills made news:
http://abcnews.go.com/International/US/story?id=755137
What a tragedy. What a horrible tragedy. I’ve never felt better about a decision; nor have I ever felt worst about discovering its aftermath.
I haven’t heard from Dino since, although I would welcome an opportunity to. I think I may have tried tracking him down once, but to no avail. He’d left the company I last recalled him working at; neither of the two phone numbers I had for him were in service anymore either. I only pray that he’s somehow found a modicum of peace by now, and that his faith hasn’t let him down.
