RIVERSIDE HEIGHTS - Every day, Hakim Aquil sits under his rickety metal canopy at the corner of Columbus Drive and North Boulevard waiting for customers.
Betty Oats climbs out of her Cadillac Escalade and looks at the colorful dresses, name-brand tennis shoes, football jerseys, camouflage pants and shorts sets that Aquil has for sale.
She settles on two dresses with animal designs for $40.
"He has the style of clothing I like, and he has good prices," Oats said. "A lot of them have African prints."
Aquil has been doing business on the corner next to the former Prince Grocery store for nearly 20 years. On some days, other vendors join him, including a shrimp seller and the "Microwave Man," who sells music CDs out of his car. Occasionally, a makeshift business out of a house across the street offers car detailing, window tinting and car alarm installations.
But all that may end.
A proposed city ordinance regulating street vendors is likely to displace Aquil and the other businesses. The ordinance, supported by neighborhood groups throughout Tampa, limits street vendors to major roads, specifies the appearance of their carts and tents, and requires them to get permits from the city zoning department.
The rule, which goes to the City Council on Sept. 23, would affect everyone from Aquil to the hot dog vendors outside Home Depot, T-shirt sellers around Raymond James Stadium on Buccaneer game days, pumpkin peddlers, Christmas tree hawkers and firework booth operators.
It would force Aquil to close or move, because his corner is not among the streets approved for year-round street vendors.
The ordinance would go a long way toward cleaning up the area of Columbus and North Boulevard and ensuring the Riverside Heights neighborhood continues to improve, said Sharon Keene, president of the Riverside Heights Neighborhood Association.
"For over 20 years that intersection's been a problem," Keene said. "It's a little thing of decay here."
Keene, who has lived in the neighborhood for about 40 years, remembers when Prince Grocery was a thriving market that attracted people from all over the city looking to buy quality meat.
"It was a first-class business," she said.
Over the years, the store went downhill. Owner Nora Milton, who gave Aquil permission to sell clothes in her parking lot, was repeatedly cited for code violations ranging from overgrown brush to food safety infractions. An adjacent house and apartment building that Milton also owned fell into disrepair, Keene said.
"The neighborhood looked the other way because the owners of that business had really been an asset to the community," Keene said.
Finally, the property went into foreclosure.
Ribhi Hammad and his brother, Mohammed, bought the Prince Grocery building a year ago and plan to lease it in a few months after cleaning it up. They've cleared away brush and replaced the dilapidated house on the west side of the grocery with a paved parking lot.
Already, the improvements are noticeable, Keene said.
Hammad said he'd rather not have street vendors on the parking lot east of the Prince Grocery building. Milton still owns that. Aquil said he pays her $75 a week to sell clothes there.
Keene realizes that people have to make a living but doesn't like the way the businesses look. She's worried they will discourage people from buying homes in Riverside Heights, where brick streets, tall oaks and charming old houses have attracted people who can't afford homes in tonier South Tampa neighborhoods with a similar feel.
Other neighborhood groups also support the proposed changes.
"The city has set out rules that are fair and precise," said Sue Lyon, president of Tampa Homeowners, an Association of Neighborhoods. "They're keeping the vendors out of the residential zones."
The ordinance would bring together regulations for street vendors that are scattered throughout different sections of the city's land development code, said Thom Snelling, manager of the city's land use and zoning division. It would also set hours of operation, require that vendors remove equipment and wares from the site daily, and limit vendors to one per lot.
"We've been asked for quite some time by code enforcement officers, neighborhood groups, the Police Department and, in some cases, other vendors to try to make something a little bit more understandable," Snelling said.
If approved, the ordinance could take effect by the end of November, Snelling said.
This isn't the first time Aquil's operation has been threatened by regulation.
Seven years ago, he was cited by code enforcement for leaving his supplies and canopy, which is secured to the ground, on site overnight. He appealed to the council and received permission to continue operating as he had.
This spring, a car jumped a curb and hit his metal shelter. Aquil rebuilt it, but according to city rules, once the structure lost 60 percent of its value, his special permit status disappeared.
Aquil tried to meet the standards of a traditional retail business, but when the city told him he needed to plant trees or build a wall between his roadside stand and an adjacent house, he abandoned the effort.
"I felt like, now, that's taking advantage of me," he said.
Aquil's supporters see him as more than a street vendor. They say his corner is a community hub where people gather to talk about issues of the day. Many consider him an inspiration.
"He's a positive image. He's an entrepreneur," said Chuck Taylor, a regular visitor to Aquil's stand. "They should be more concerned about the people standing on the corner selling crack and let him do business."
Even if the ordinance doesn't become law, Aquil said he'll likely close in six months.
"I'm tired of fighting with the city," he said. "My only hope is that one day they'll put a plaque on the corner acknowledging there was somebody here who for 20 years served the community well."
