BY KRISTA RAMSEY
The Cincinnati Enquirer
John Marx, the Bagelman, is about to get serious. He has taken off his beanie with the propeller on top, and laid it on the table beside him.
The Bagelman is, in a word, depressed. Last October, he lost a $65,000 civil lawsuit. A customer at his Blue Ash Marx Hot Bagels shop charged that he made sexual and derogatory comments; a jury agreed.
Now the Bagelman finds himself measuring every word he utters, although he still maintains he is innocent of the costly remark. The one-liners that used to slide off his tongue -- about customers' looks, incomes, spouses -- come less frequently. The insults, which once turned a weekday lunch into stand-up comedy, are directed only to old friends or newcomers who pass scrutiny.
"I think I look at people now and think maybe they couldn't take it," he says, then adds with a tiny smile, "I'm not always right about that."
Regular customers notice the change regretfully. The edge is gone. The verbal sparring -- which some loved and others aggressively avoided -- has been toned to near politeness. Gone is the delicious tension over what might happen next.
Pressure to conform
Before, an unspoken game was carried on. Mild-mannered customers quickly learned to avoid eye contact with the yakky man in the hairnet and bagel-rimmed glasses. They ordered curtly and pocketed their change with a sigh of relief.
Pluckier customers stepped up bravely for contact. "I had people who called me up and said, "I'm bringing someone from another city, a friend from Israel,' or "I'm bringing my boss in,' and asked me to harass him," he says, sipping an 18-ounce container of cappuccino, which he swears calms him down.
Now, many days, he admits he hides in the back of his Kenwood Road shop. "I'll start joking around, and some idiot will say, "You're going too far,' " he says, taking off his eyeglasses, then putting them on and taking them off again.
"I know I didn't say what they said I did," he says. "But I know I went to court and lost."
Bagelman's newfound silence isn't about the money. It is about an uncertainty over what is appropriate.
It is about inner conflict over the pressure to conform to a safe and conservative approach to business and a lifetime need to be himself -- a spontaneous, self-styled character he admits can be "kooky."
The old days
The last thing he wanted when he went into business 26 years ago was to wear a suit and kiss up to people. The thought sent him running to Izzy Kadetz, whose colorful personality drew people to his downtown deli.
Mr. Kadetz told the young entrepreneur that customers come for the food, but return for the give-and-take.
It was all the encouragement John Marx needed. Off came the suit. On went a red cape and blue tights. Out went the "My-name-is-John-can-I-take-your-order," and in came, "No, I'd never cheat you. I only cheat well-dressed customers."
Now John Marx is wondering if those days are gone for good. It makes him philosophical.
"We all have differences," he says. "I believe we're all stupid; there are just different degrees of stupidity. Same with ugliness. I believe most people don't laugh enough."
He leans forward. "Nobody wants to enjoy life any more," he says earnestly. "If we see something that is different, we try to make it like we are. That destroys it."
Not everyone relished the old Bagelman's style. But some of us did.
And, while there's never been room for vulgar or sexist comments, there's never been more need for camaraderie, for kidding, for banter.
John Marx thinks so. He thinks about the old days and sighs.
"I get a real high off of seeing people leave with a smile -- but there's no question I offend people," he says, fiddling with his glasses, his cappuccino, his nails.
"Some of it is, I just get fed up. I say, "What the hell, I'm just going to be myself.' "
He leans forward conspiratorially. "Those are my best days."
Krista Ramsey's column appears on Saturdays. Write her at the Enquirer, 312 Elm St. Cincinnati 45202.
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