The Coast is Clear

The Coast is Clear

Many of us have heard the late Cab Calloway sing his famous song about Minnie the Moocher, who was a “Low down hootchie –kootcher. Well I’m going to tell you about Manny the Moocher, may he rest in peace. He worked at my business firm for almost twenty years and retired about fifteen years ago.

Manny Belinsky was a grade “B”mechanic trying to repair heating systems in the metropolitan area of New York. He was a tremendous blowhard and braggart and had marginal ability when he came to us. He improved while working for us as we had some good men who showed him his mistakes.

We hired him when we were desperately short of men. He commuted from Long Island and was let go from many oil companies because of his ineptitude, laziness and slovenly appearance. But desperate times call for desperate measures. When he started working for us, he said “I found a home.”

He was quite heavy and often couldn’t fit in his working space. Many home builders put the gas or oil burner of the furnace or boiler too close to a wall to gain square footage of living space. He made up for his lack of ability to fix things with his scare tactics to sell new equipment to the customer. Sometimes he lost the sale and we lost the customer. More often than not he sold something. He was not on commission but eventually a certain amount of the clientele caught on to him and he was unwelcome in their homes on future calls.

Somehow he ingratiated himself with my partner and me because he never refused to help when we were very busy and he was willing to put in time when others would not.

On one of the first calls he went to, he made a mistake and added cold water to a hot steam cast iron boiler in the home of a woman who would later on become my own mother in law. He didn’t admit his mistake at the time but one of the other fellows snitched later on.

The other personnel in the company refused to go out for a coffee break or lunch with him because he had a “condition.” The “condition” was that he had very low pockets on his pant trousers and very short arms. In other words, he never, ever stuck his hands in his pockets to pay for anything at the end of a meal or when anyone approached the cashier. I could never figure out how he got away with it, because most people would not stand for it.

Manny knew I liked fishing and he told me he would love to go with me one day and get a paid day out of basements. He invited me to go fishing using a neighbor’s boat. Once we left the dock he took off his shirt and it was as if an announcement was made:
”Attention all Green flies! We have some prime meat to land on right off Jones Beach . Look for the fat man with blond hair and enjoy!” I couldn’t believe it. He never felt a thing as these marina monsters landed on him and bit away. I was petrified of those biting insects because they give one “helluva” mean stinging bite.. He never even flinched and was covered with welts. We did catch a few flounder so it wasn’t a total loss.

As time went on he had trouble with his hips due to his enormous weight which enabled him to go on service calls that involved standing only. After a hip was replaced he saw the handwriting on the wall and convinced his wife to move to Florida with him. She quickly found a good position as a skilled bookkeeper and he moved into his late mothers apartment.

His mother had passed away a few years prior and both of his brothers were successful professionals who didn’t care that he managed her finances. Somehow he conned them both and had access to her money and the deed to her home in an area of Delray Beach called Kings Point. So, like so many of my employees who retired before me, he moved to Florida in about 1995.

I retired in 2000, and wanted to live in Florida. I found out from my cousin Ann who lived in Huntington Towers that she had seen Manny and his wife at several low end restaurants. I made her swear never to tell him that I had bought a home in Florida when I did in 2001. I also told the other former employees whose whereabouts were known that they dare not tell Manny the Moocher that I was here.

I once had the payroll department of my old place call up the union local to see if he was still alive and collecting his pension. I was amazed that he was still alive since he was so grossly overweight and had diabetes. He never had high blood pressure when I knew him.

I was always afraid of running in to him at Home Depot as it was the place that was near both Manny and me to buy tools and materiel. I once had a cab driver who was chatty tell me about a guy in his development who was a slob and a bull thrower who could empty out a room by just entering it because people wanted to avoid him. I asked if his name was Manny Belinsky, and indeed it was. I gave him a huge tip and told him to forget my name and where he picked me up.

Recently I had out of town guests visiting me and we were sitting around the pool in our community. During a break in conversation I remembered that I had not checked my answer machine in my Long Island residence and dialed the number. I had one message and it was from Dora Belinsky asking me to call her. I didn’t know when the message was left. I called up my former business partner to ask him if he heard anything about Manny the Moocher and the call that I received in New York. He said that Manny must have died and that I should confirm it. I borrowed my guest’s telephone which had a Massachusett’s area code to return Dora’s call. That way she would not have to know that I am nearby. She informed me that Manny had died that very day and figured that since he was fond of me that I would want to know.

I asked what he died of and she told me that he was seventy seven years old and had everything wrong with him and wanted to die. I asked where the funeral would be held and she told me that it was going to be locally in Florida. I thanked her for calling and told her that I would pass the word on to the “office.” The Belinsky’s did not realize that I had retired almost eight years ago.

I am sorry when anyone passes on and felt bad about it. For the life of me I can’t figure out why I was called. We had not communicated for the last twelve years or exchanged family information on life’s happenings.

At any time of the day or night I can now feel free to go to Home Depot without looking around to see if the coast is clear, but I really haven’t thought about that for awhile. I realize that my fear of running into him was silly. I could have said that I was visiting Ann or anything else without admitting that I lived here.