PART 6

 Part Six

Aliases For

Potential Crybabies

MarjTheBombshell and

Solly Boy, the Enforcer

I am the MarjTheBombshell in the title of this piece. Solly Boy

is the other part of the two-person dynamic in the saga.

So back in 1999, when AOL was in its infancy, there were

popular chat rooms where you could spend time and have fun

talking to strangers, and maybe even meet those with whom

you communicated. We had “screen names” that we used so our

identity remained anonymous. I created “MarjTheBombshell,”

as a tribute to how I wanted to be perceived. It was a bit self-in-

volved, but I got attention.

I never actually wanted to meet a man in a chat room and

seriously “partner up.” I did not think I was nothing without a

man, and “getting married” was not in my wheelhouse as a reach

for entelechy. I grew to actually like not being attached and en-

joyed solitude and being alone after a hard day at work teaching

sixth graders. But... I did like to socialize at that time, so when

my “Singles Over 40” group started to plan local gatherings,

I was in. I loved meeting the faces behind the names. 

I loved hanging out on Friday nights at Long Island clubs and 

meeting this same group for occasional lunches in Queens 

restaurants. I lived in Manhattan (and still live here), and 

I had a car (I still have a car), and keep it in the garage under 

my building. When one lunch was being planned, Paul, “NightCop,” 

or something, I cannot remember, contacted me. I knew Paul from

months of talking in that room, and in a bizarre coincidence,

Paul was a business associate of my father. My father owned

Columbia Silver Company, and Paul produced some items my

father needed for an association. Paul asked me if I would take

his friend to the restaurant on Woodhaven Boulevard, which was

a short drive out of the Midtown Tunnel. He also told me his

“friend” lived close by, on West 20th Street, and would meet

me in the lobby of my building. “So what’s his name?” I asked.

“Solly Boy,” Paul replied. He added he is known as “The En-

forcer.” I had read about him in the newspapers. He did hard

time. His name speaks for itself. 

He was well known for his crimes, and at one time, he was 

featured on many tabloid-styleTV shows.

“Will this be a problem?” Paul asked. He assured me it was

safe. I was fine with it. What could happen? It was extreme to

think he would whip out a gun and blow my head off.

This now comes flooding back: I was best friends in sum-

mer camp with a girl from Merrick who, years later, robbed

houses at gunpoint, and it was in the newspaper. When I saw the

article about her crimes in Newsday, I showed it to my mother,

who replied without missing a beat, “It figures you’d be friends

with her.” At the time, I was not shocked by my mother’s reac-

tion because she was the queen of insults. She had three great

enemies in life: her husband and her two daughters.

So the day came and there he was... in my lobby, ready

for the day’s adventure. We made small talk on the way out, the

lunch was uneventful, and Solly flirted with Suzy. But the ride

back to Manhattan was a different experience. We hit bad traffic,

and Solly wanted to get back to attend a lecture at a university.

His impatience was palpable, and he was growing angry. I was

getting edgy. But we got back, and a block after we hit West

30th Street, Solly thanked me for the ride and 

jumped out of the vehicle.

Bye Solly. We never spoke again after that day. But I hear

he likes taking long walks and feeding pigeons in the park.

Dumped by Benjamin Weiner

I first saw Benny Weiner on October 24, 2008, at a Soap Opera

Festival held in Newark, New Jersey. He moderated a very in-

teresting panel discussion with some old soap stars. Benny also

presented a loving tribute to his father, Manny, who was in the

serial The Secret Wedding during the 1970s. He was known in

comedy clubs as Manny the Heckler because he made fun of

those in the audience. He passed away in March 2006.

I was very impressed with Benny’s participation, so I went

to the Drama Book Shop and bought his book, The Son of a

Heckler, to learn more about him and his career. It turns out

his grandfather is the famous comic Tiny Weiner. (Benny goes

by his grandfather’s surname). Benny’s mother is the daughter

of the infamous Tiny Weiner, who was a pioneer during televi-

sion’s golden age. Soon after that festival, 

I sent Benny an email. 

Benny:

I am almost finished reading The Son of a Heckler, and I

Marjorie J. Levine ~ 65am loving it so much I am not wanting it to end. 

This is a fascinating story of a true journey... and I think what is so 

amazing is how the narrative is factually presented with visual 

memorabilia in photos and is also written with layers of extremely 

dark wit and humor. It is hilarious! I am just astounded by so many 

parts. And it is so well presented that I feel as if I am actually watching

the sagas unfold. I think you did a great job showing in subtle

ways how people interacted and related to your father. Benny,

your book is just wonderful. Let me put it this way: it’s a book

that is the best independent film I have ever read.

Marjorie

Shortly after I sent the above email to Benny, I wrote to

him again and asked if he would meet me for lunch. I have no

boundaries. He immediately replied, “Sure,” and we met on a

Wednesday at noon at a diner on Upper Broadway in New York

City. We started to talk, and right away I was impressed with

Benny’s straightforward, honest, and down-to-earth manner. He

spoke about his musical, Early to Bed, and he said he regretted

that the show’s “time (on Broadway) was short.” He discussed,

in a very forthright manner, how the last few days of the show

turned into a fiasco because the performers were not getting the

response they expected. He wrote Early to Bed based on his re-

lationship with his father at the time. His father never saw the

show. Benny says in his book that his father blocked all com-

munication with him because Benny did not go to Manny’s last

stand-up comedy show in upstate New York. The loss of the

relationship was a huge disappointment to him that 

he lives with to this day.

I went to a few of Benny’s book signings to show support

for his endeavors and always had a good time. Benny has an 

extensive list of accomplishments. 

He had a salute to Brucie Decker, which he performed at a 

New York City nightclub, and he has done a few comedy albums. 

Benny was working on a musical about his father and included some 

of Manny’s best lines:

“You are all better than a sleeping pill.”

“If I could get this audience to laugh, I would make this

night a tax deduction for my charity work.”

“My last girlfriend watched me like a hawk, and she was

up my ass more than a rectal suppository.”

Benny Weiner, son of Manny the Heckler, stopped talking

to me because I stopped going to his shows at New York City

nightclubs. I did not go to his show where he sang the songs of

Brucie Decker because I thought it would be torture. Benny was

not a great singer, and to listen to him drone on for two hours

while strumming his guitar would have been unbearable. Any-

way, I think his shows were “bringers” where he was required

to have a certain number of asses in seats, or 

he would not get stage time.

The last time I was asked to go to his show, I told him I

had nobody to go with, and he said I could sit with his mother

and his father’s old comedy partner from the 1960s. But I had

seen his show many times. How many book signings and shows

did he want me to go to? He was also angry that I was not buying

enough of his merch and stuff even though I bought two of his

books and even his mother’s book. So he cut me off…

Yikes. So immature. Didn’t his father do that to him for the

same reason?

Catfished

Jeeves, pass the smelling salts. In my broadcast now, I try to

gain new insights into a specific emotional saga and to achieve

a greater perspective and understanding of my choices during an

earlier time when I was “catfished.” And I was... for a long time.

I try to work through the confusion and to determine the

motivations behind the behavior of the “other person” within

the maze of numerous interactions that happened over the many

years of a very bizarre period of my life. During the journey, I

remained quiet and allowed it all to unfold in great mysteries

“behind the scenes.” It was layered, complicated, and filled with

great contradictions. This was my lucid “trip” into the surreal

world of the dark web, where bends in a personal dynamic confuse reality.

I did not love this stranger whom I met in my show back in

2013. We can call him “DarkCode.” He watched my show and

became obsessed with me. He never missed a show. We inter-

acted in my chat room during my broadcast: with me “on cam,”

and he typed in the chat box and sent me 

private messages all day at a social media site. 

He never revealed  his face and kept his true identity private, 

but he did send several photos, which he claimed were of 

him but were obviously not. 

He clearly was not who he said he was. But back then, he 

“got inside my head”with his manipulations and mind tricks. 

I became dependent on him as he advanced to becoming my 

videographer. He would record my shows as I broadcast from 

several New York City street locations.

Even though his identity was murky, he was eventually

able to convince me that his emotional well-being and happiness

were totally dependent on having me in his life on a computer. If

I told him to “go away,” he made me believe he was becoming

very self-destructive. And he was jealous, controlling, and he

created elaborate sagas in messages about adventures that were,

by turns, entertaining and then alarming. He spent years creating

detailed stories about his life, and I went down that rabbit hole as

if I was hypnotized and in some trance.

This was a deep dive into mind bends and will be incom-

prehensible to many of those who live in the real world with

grounded lives. To them, this will be totally impossible to even

understand. They function in a tangible world with regular ac-

tivity of traveling with a spouse, entertaining family, meeting

friends for lunch, shopping, renovating, weekend getaways

to country homes, and visits with the grandchildren. In other

words, they thrive in and enjoy a senior reality.

That world: a world that alluded me. But, there is a subter-

ranean subculture of bizarre “night owls” who interconnect with

each other on social media and who allow feelings for others in

that world to marinate internally. They move within a different

world, a world of fantasy and even delusion. And those “kooks”

will “get it.” In my specific situation, I was enabling this catfish’s 

“idea” of me... in all his full-blown delusional glory.

He even pulled others into his agenda... a woman named

“Jinx” who contacted me and told me I was “walking him to his

grave.” She posted this to him, which I was able to see: “I will

not stand over your grave! But I will go with you to it! And as

long as I have a breath, she (me) will not be the reason!” They

created a tag team for the purpose of manipulation to attach me

to him for their own devious purposes.

Why did I allow this? I think the easiest reply is that I got

caught up in a daily drama in which I was the main player and

living within my own reality TV show. I could have blocked

him, but that would have ended my own personal version of The

Truman Show. He was insidious in multiple ways, and when you

are being “gaslighted” by an expert, you make excuses for the

emotional abuse and think you are ahead of it when, in fact, you

are controlled and just a personal marionette for a catfish whose

own needs are being fulfilled along the way.

Regardless of the level of fame, these characters crawl out

of the woodwork and advance into the lives of the vulnerable

within a twisted fantasy world. I had read about The Miranda

Obsession, and it was said she was the first “catfish” during

the 1970s and 1980s. She seduced, over the phone, many well-

known high-profile men connected to Hollywood, and as those

calls advanced, she sent fake photos. She was not who she said

she was, and she may have met only one of them, and they con-

tinued to communicate with her for years.

Yes, cyber night crawlers do live in an alternate universe...

a world of total limerence. But now, from where I sit, in some

ways I feel I belong with them.

I slide into those esoteric relationships like a second skin.