Morado

There's a man in a purple suit, carrying a brief case. On the outside are two metal dials for each clip, holding the case prisoner.

Everyday he comes into my business, sits at the very last table in the back of the restaurant and orders a plain water with a slice of lime and no ice. He then proceeds to empty the contents of his briefcase ever so carefully so that no one may see what else is inside.

From the leather case he removes a perfectly wrapped, dressed, and crust less sandwich that (from where I'm stationed) looks like peanut butter and jam. Not jelly. The consistency of the fillings when bitten proves to be too thick as it squishes out the sides and down his free fingers.

It makes me wonder why a man with such a routine and secret about him allows himself to create such a mess.

However, when he is done with this sandwich he moves on to his next victim, a perfectly stacked line up of chips. Nothing like Pringles but more like Frito's that are aligned perfectly so that each one is ripe for the picking.

A server always tries to force something out of him but routinely, he shoos them away until he has devoured every inch of his self made meal.

It isn't until he has finished his pre-cut orange that he finally takes a sip of his water, not without removing the lime first.

Curious, I watch him drink the entire glass until it is empty. He then stares blankly at the wall in silence, as if he were a mannequin, until the bus boys come around and offer him another round of water. Savoring the new water he waits until a fresh sliced lime comes his way and then dunks the moon shaped pieces into the clear liquid watching it reflect green through the glass.

Finally he orders an espresso in a cup that he supplies himself within his briefcase. Included is a white hanky that he polishes the mug with before passing it off to the server. When the espresso arrives he passes it back claiming the shot is not right. With ease I try adjusting the setting until the creme on top is to his liking and he downs it like a drunken sorority girl at a frat party.

With that he excuses himself to the restroom, while the server prepares the bill leaving the briefcase alone and unprotected atop the table.

A mysterious twenty minutes goes by until he returns, signs his bill and dashes out the door brief case and purple suit donned.

This is the complexity of the man with a purple suit.