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Dick Kovacic, on the other hand, just wanted to continue working in his chosen field, a field that required a certain amount of professional expertise. To focus on dressing rooms is to reduce his experience to that of a washroom attendant.
Nevertheless, EEOC at first planned to rule against Dick.
"They just listened to Lillie Rubin and said, 'No, it's a privacy thing; men just can't do this,'" he says indignantly. "I went back and said, 'Excuse me, I am doing this everyday.' They went, 'Oh!' They had never even checked into it. They checked into it and said, 'You're right! They are doing something wrong.'"
Meanwhile, Kovacic has not yet decided if he wants to sue at all, but he is looking for lawyers willing to take the case on contingency. But with Lillie Rubin filing for bankruptcy, he is not optimistic.
He doesn't expect to reap great financial rewards from litigation.
"I wouldn't care, if the policy changed," he says.
When New Times suggested that he be photographed in front of the Biltmore Lillie Rubin store, he refused.
"That would be a cheap shot," he says.
At Gustavo in the Esplanade, salesperson Marcie Pound is expounding on the reputation of her competitor, Dick Kovacic.
"People don't really know him by his last name," she says, "but they know who Dick is. He's a legend in this town."
And then almost as if on cue, a well-coiffed woman in the process of plunking down a sum equal to the Gross National Product of Burma for a few dainty little things, turns and says, "Dick who? Oh, you mean Dick.
"I just met him about three weeks ago. My close friend, who's also his close friend, suggested I meet him. I wasn't buying that day, but I went up just to introduce myself for the future."
Why any business would turn away a salesperson with that kind of drawing power is a mystery.