As summer approaches, the denizens of the small NJ beach town of Belmar can look forward to the sights, sounds and smells of the season — hot dogs grilling on the barbecue, sunscreen SPF 50 sticking to alabaster bodies and of course, loud drunks holding court in kiddie pools.
One drunk in particular, Louie Iadochico, a 27-year-old stockbroker trainee from Staten Island, spends the majority of his summer weekends sitting happily in his inflatable, 5-foot diameter kiddie pool.
This plastic oasis is positioned front and center on the lawn of the 10th avenue rental house he shares with thirteen other buddies. The three-bedroom house is only one block away from the beach, but the proximity is still not a big enough draw to make Louie leave the safe confines of his aquatic throne.
“The pool effin rules!” Declares a visibly inebriated Louie sitting spread eagle in his pool. “Why drag my sexy ass down to the beach when I got everything I need right here. Can you drink beer on the beach? No. Can you smoke cigarettes on the beach? Not this year. Can you pee on the beach without getting up? No. Well I can do it all right here.”
Another favorite pastime of Louie and pals is making time with the ladies.
“By sitting in the pool all day, I get to see all the talent walk by on their way to the beach. When a hottie walks by I usually wink and say, ‘It’s all good!’ or ‘There’s room in here for two, baby.’ and I’ll offer them a beer. If some skank walks by, I’ll just tell her, ‘Keep walking, ain’t nothing to see here.’ or something funny like that. It really cracks the guys up.”
Louie fills up his pool with fresh water every Friday afternoon when he arrives. By Saturday afternoon there is usually about eight beer cans and some soggy hamburger rolls accompanying him in the pool. There are also about 20 to 30 small stones.
“Louie usually passes out around three or four o’clock for a solid two hours,” relates amused housemate Marco Mastrorilli. “That when me, Sal and Reilly put a bottle on Louie’s head and try to knock it off with these little rocks,” he says as he picks up a handful of stones from the driveway. “That fat bastard never wakes up. He’s out cold. It’s the only time he shuts the eff up.”
Some of the neighbors are year-round residents and do not appreciate the unsavory sight of a large, hairy man basting in a kiddie pool and spewing profane language.
“Most of them are decent kids. They just play wiffleball for a good six to eight hours a day or put a TV on the lawn and watch the Mets game,” says Fred Tozzi, a Belmar resident who lives across the street from the rental property.
“A couple of them though have real potty mouths, especially the big fella in the pool. He never gets up. I think he’s disabled.”