midnight
On the occasion of those sparse first nights granted the metropolis of the Middle West he was always present , third row , aisle , left . When a new loop café was opened Jo 's table always commanded an unobstructed view of anything worth viewing . On entering he was wont to say , `` Hello , Gus , '' with careless cordiality to the head waiter , the while his eye roved expertly from table to table as he removed his gloves . He ordered things under glass , so that his table , at midnight or thereabouts , resembled a hot-bed that favours the bell system . The waiters fought for him . He was the kind of man who mixes his own salad dressing . He liked to call for a bowl , some cracked ice , lemon , garlic , paprika , salt , pepper , vinegar , and oil and make a rite of it .