Perry's Deli

-By Meg Ward

A line of office workers spills out of a deli at 180 N. Franklin St. It's noon in the Loop, and that means everyone is out in search of something to eat. Not knowing where their appetites will take them, they might devour a burrito or stop for a slice of pizza. But the crowd waiting in line at180 N. Franklin knows exactly what awaits them. And if they don't, they're in for an awakening from their average lunch break. Perry's deli in the North Loop is a feast for the stomach, eyes, and intellect.

"All aboard!" a voice shouts over a loud speaker. A stout, middle-aged man toots a wooden train whistle and addresses the crowd in his deli. The Journey album playing overhead is turned off.

"We have a brand new Cadillac or a stale pastry of your choice to whoever answers this trivia question," the stout man announces.

The dining crowd slows down a bit and those in line listen closely.

"The subject is music. What rock group sings the song Mr. Roboto?"

"Styx!" A man shouts from a table.

"We have a winner," the stout man with the mustache returns.

Perry, who prefers to not reveal his last name, is the man behind the deli famous for its gigantic sandwiches and for its founder's daily schtick. Trivia is delivered every 15 to 20 minutes from categories ranging in geography to presidents. Perry came up with the idea after seeing the long lines that formed to wait for his delicious, enormous sandwiches.

"I wanted to entertain those who were waiting in line so the wait wouldn't seem as long," Perry says.

"The level of difficulty of each question depends on how many pastries I have left."

Those who find this as a light-hearted introduction are in for a surprise when they reach the counter. You must be quick on your feet, ask no questions, and for goodness sake don't ask for anything out of the ordinary. Perry and his snappy staff move the line along quickly and that means no time for those still in a work-cubicle coma.

"Could I get a bag?" an unsuspecting man asks.

"You're the pushiest guy I know," Perry sternly says as he quickly hands him a bag.

This half-schtick, half-serious attitude gives devout customers a laugh and new comers a slap in the face.

"I'm not a mean guy. The main reason I'm so intense is because I have two hours to make a living," Perry explains.

The lunch rush, the only meal Perry is open for, lasts from about 11:30 a.m. to 1:30 p.m.

"If I don't keep that line moving, I lose money."

Customers are invited to get to know the personal side of Perry. The walls are decorated with pictures of him and his wife, their dogs, and other friends and family. Other walls honor Perry's regular customers with a collage of their pictures.

Jackie Laino, cashier, is a recent member (one year) to Perry's faithful staff, most of which have been with him for years. She enjoys her working environment as well as the antics of her boss.

"I love it, he's a character. [Perry] is a legend in his own mind," Laino laughs.

What else should one know before entering Perry's Deli?

"Sir, sir . . . You can't use that cell phone in here," Perry directs over the loud speaker to a young man chatting away on his phone. The music has been shut off and everyone is now looking at the man who's ignorance is about to get him kicked out.

"Sir, I'm talking to you. You can't use that in here. You're sitting right next to the sign that says so," Perry says.

The cell phone user's buddies elbow him and let him know that Perry is very serious. After one last warning from Perry, the customer hangs up his phone.

"I would have come out and had to ask him to leave and I hate that," Perry said later of the cell phone incident. Perhaps it is because of scenes like these that Perry does not want his customers knowing his listed last name.

"[Talking on cell phones] ruins the atmosphere of the deli."

It's as simple as that. No cell phones allowed.

Perry proves to his customers day in and day out that he is a man committed to quality, freshness and entertainment.

"I never want to disappoint my customers," Perry says.

"Putting out a great sandwich is no big deal. Putting out a great sandwich day after day, week after week, month after month, for twenty years . . .that's the challenge."

Perry's dedication is what keeps customers like Joe Kye coming back. Kye, a lawyer in the Loop, has been a regular since 1992.

"The food is very good and it's a friendly place to go. Where else can you go where they'll put your picture up on the wall," Kye says.

"And Perry's intolerance of cell phones is always entertaining."

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