17/11/95
King of the Makolet
Meet Menashe: Stacker of wheat, stormy, husky, brawling, center of the universe
for the neighborhood yentes.
Wherever I have lived in this country, I could
put a pot of cold water on the stove, light the gas,
race out of the house, get to the makolet, buy spaghetti
and race back before the water had even boiled.
And so it is where I now live, on a camouflaged
street where you couldn't possibly find me unless you
thought to ask the guy sitting behind a counter stacked
high with candy bars. "Bald guy? Talks like a new
immigrant? Sure, across the road two doors down behind
the big tree, and tell him he already owes me 100 shekels."
Menashe, King of the Makolet, stacker of wheat
and the nation's freight-handler, stormy, husky, brawling,
backbone of the commerce of Zion, center of the universe
for the neighborhood yentes.
The day we moved in, just as soon as they had
the fridge in place, I was off like a bolt. "Honey,"
I said -- to my wife, not the mover -- "I'm going
to the makolet. Need anything?" Well, we needed
everything, because we had run out of food after our
previous makolet stopped giving us credit, which was
why we had to move in the first place. "Just get
me something to drink," she said. "I'll make
you a list after we uncrate the computer."
I took that to mean her job was the unpacking,
while mine was the shopping.
I bounded out of the house and, like a sunflower
turns to face the sun, my internal radar found the fluorescent
"Strauss" sign.
His name was Menashe. Knew everyone on the block.
And everything about everyone. He knew just enough about
me to demand cash.
"Two Cokes," I said.
"Bought the Kimmel place, eh? How much?"
I had to tell him.
"Paid too much. The plumbing's shot. Did
you find the dead mouse in the attic?"
Actually, I hadn't even found the attic.
"Kimmel was renting to Pereg. Pereg couldn't
pay anymore when the old man went to jail. Kimmel got
fed up with Kinamon upstairs scaring off the tenants
all the time so he sold." Menashe grinned. "Habibi,
just wait till Pereg gets out of jail and finds you
in his house!"
I wondered if I should have consulted him first
before moving in to what was beginning to sound like
ג€Nightmare on Rehov Sumsum.ג€
"How much for the Cokes," I asked.
"It depends: how much do you make a month?"
he answered.
WE
SOON developed a relationship so remarkable that I kept
a diary, which Kurkum in apartment 28 thinks could be
made into a movie. Here are some excerpts, a world exclusive:
September 2
bread
2 milk
tuna
I say, "is the bread fresh?" Menashe
says what is this, a makolet or a museum? Buxom lady
from Apartment 4 is buying unmentionables and garlic.
Menashe says to her: "Did you hear?" She says:
"You mean about the Ethiopians in number 19? Nobody's
talking about it. But I know." He says: "No,
I mean the Hungarian in 31, Paprikosh. She got pregnant
yesterday. They have no business, not on his salary."
September 9
bread
yogurt
Menashe says: "you want bread today?"
I check my list, I say yes. He is beaming. "New
service for you Americans," he says. I say: "you
Moroccans really know 'us' Americans." He is a
Kurd. He threatens to throw me out, I threaten to leave.
But first I want to know what his new service is. He
points to a sign: "American Bread." "It's
a special shelf," he says, beaming again. "For
bread that customers arenג€™t allowed to touch. No wheat
germs." I'm impressed. He hollers at Za'atar, his
obedient teenaged Arab gofer, to get one American Bread.
Za'atar squeezes out his sponja rag and puts it down,
grabs a loaf, hands it to Menashe. Menashe stuffs it
in a bag and proudly presents it to me. Tells me there's
a 20-agora surcharge, "for handling." I forget
the yogurt.
September 12
12 eggs
Big breakthrough today. Ask for 12 eggs. (He
demands to know what I did with the 12 I bought only
a few days ago.) I say: "Are they fresh?"
He says he has a certificate from the chicken. And then,
this: I only have enough cash for 11. He takes my money
and then pulls out his black book, turns to a blank
page, writes "Sem" at the top and "NIS
0.41" on the first line. He enters the date and
I sign. Finally! Credit!
September 14
3 milk
1 No. 2 chicken
jam
Want to buy cherry jam. Mouse droppings on jar.
I change my mind. Buy plum jam instead. Menashe assures
me the droppings are fresh.
October 1
28 Bamba
28 Bisli
28 "Chocolate Bears"
28 Choco
28 Pretzels
28 Crembo
cigarettes
"Kid's birthday?"
"Yeah."
October
2
6 cheese dips
1 kilo nuts
3 bags sunflower seeds
gin
tonic
3 white wine
3 red wine
3 kilo cocktail hotdogs
3 kilo bourekas
"Having some friends over because you bought
too much for the kiddy party?"
"Yeah."
October
28
Oil
Goulash
meat
Onion
powder
Goulash meat is stuck under a polar cap. Been
there since he bought the freezer 14 years ago. Mouse
droppings on oil bottle, Menashe says it's Za'atar's
fault, wipes them off with a pita. Says he has no onion
powder. Says it doesn't exist. "Sure it does,"
I insist. "Maybe in America. Not in Israel. No
such thing as onion powder, believe me, I know. Take
curry instead." "But I once bought onion powder
in the supermarket." Menashe snorts. "The
supermarket! What does it have that I don't? Nothing!
Except a sexy Russian girl at the cash, that's the only
reason people go there. You wanna look down someone's
blouse, you go there, you wanna feed your family, you
come to Menashe. So how much curry you want?" I
don't think I should ask Menashe where his macrobiotics
department is.
November 6
Toilet paper (24-roll pack)
"Diarrhea?" (I don't answer.)
November 14
13 eggs
Mars bar
Menashe is in high dudgeon. "Can't sell
you 13 eggs. Nobody ever asked for 13 eggs. If you need
13 you have to buy 24. Idiot. You don't know they come
12 to a carton? You want a carton, okay, but if I sell
you 13 then somebody will have to buy only 11 and nobody
buys only 11 eggs. No. Can't sell you 13." Of course,
I did that just to rankle him. What I do next is even
worse: "Alright, then give me 11." Like, where's
he gonna put the dozenth?
November 27
chicken soup
40 boxes tissues
You know why, throughout the civilized Christian
world, Christmas season starts in September? It's a
ruse. It used to be called "flu season" until
sometime in the 12th century, when toy stores finally
realized nobody buys toys for people with flu. (It was
about that time when Santa Claus started saying "Ho!
Ho! Ho!" while grabbing his belly instead of "Oy!
Oy! Oy!") The civilized Jewish world never caught
on, and that's why they drink egg nog and feel
great, and we drink chicken soup and wonder why
we never get better.
November 29
chicken soup
40 boxes tissues
toilet paper (two 24-roll packs)
Mrs. Kurkum is also buying chicken soup, tissues
and toilet paper. (Menashe tells me there's been a run
on toilet paper.) "Did you hear?" she says
to the makoletier; "Cohen." Menashe gasps.
"No!" She nods. "This morning. It's a
secret, but I know because my Russian cleans by them
on Mondays." "A calamity. And they haven't
even paid me this month." "So I told Shoshi
and she said she suspected all along." "I
always wondered about that family." "Well,
now we know." "I still don't believe it."
"Tsk, tsk." Menashe tallies up Mrs. Kurkum's
bill. He says: "Which Cohen?"
December 15
Tampons
Drain cleaner
He says: "Is that all?" (I wonder what
the neighborhood is going to think when they hear about
this.)
December 22
20 milk
all the bread I can carry
anything else still on the shelves
15 cartons cigarettes
It snows.
December 23
12 eggs
The snow is gone and so is Menashe. Zangvil (Apt.
22, across from the epileptic drug dealer) tells me
Menashe goes to Hawaii for a month every year, the day
after it snows.
January 3
onion powder
Drive to the supermarket: forgot what it's like!
Spend NIS 348. Buy fake shrimp, Hoisin sauce, Skippy's
peanut butter, 12 quail eggs. I hum to the piped-in
music. Buy Fluffernutter, Bulgarian sour cherry jam,
3 milk with dinosaur pictures on it, salad dressing
with Paul Newman's picture on it. Free samplings in
every aisle work out to a well-balanced meal. Buy 2
pkg. real New York bagels, nine-ply mauve toilet paper
made from processed velvet and virgin cotton. Oops!
Drop a bottle of Johnnie Walker, nobody yells. Buy Beano,
Camembert, jalapeno-flavored tacos, Perrier, kosher
simulated pickled pig snouts, schmaltz herring, tea
that's not Wissotzky's, Philadelphia Cream Cheese. Forget
to buy onion powder. Sexy Russian cashier doesn't have
a black book but says I can pay it off in equal instalments
until the turn of the century. I ask if she heard about
Mrs. Cohen, she says she don't know nothing and I should
complain directly to the manager. I write my name on
the printout, put it in a box and win a free trip to
Paris. Can't wait til Menashe gets back!
January 23
1 Coke
Menashe's back. I say, "how much is 1 Coke?"
I pay in cash.
