by Hyapatia Lee
“Miss Lee! Miss Lee!’ He shouted. Obviously he was a fan. I was aware of how I was dressed. I was trying to get this club to hire my band. I did not want to go out in a frumpy dress. I had a short North Beach Leather skirt and halter-top on with a very Native American jacket over it. I looked like Hyapatia and there was no escaping it.
I turned to Bud for help, protection. He turned his back to me. I talked to the man, was as polite as I could be, signed his autograph and expected him to leave. Bud was still ignoring me. The man headed for his car and I thought I should get back in ours as quickly as possible. When I reached for the door, I realized the man was right behind me. I did not want to open the door for fear he would get in the car with me. He stood by the door with me and I couldn’t believe it when he unzipped his pants and started to masturbate! It was dark and all, but we were on a pretty busy street, with lights and traffic going by. It didn’t seem to bother him. Bud turned around and looked a couple of times, but he did nothing. Eventually the guy came on my shoe and finally, left. Bud was still talking on the phone.
I went to the phone booth next to his and called Chuck, the only person who was home and who’s number I remembered that wasn’t long distance. He was concerned and tried to calm me down. He couldn’t understand why Bud didn’t do anything. I didn’t understand why Hyapatia didn’t take over.
It was apparent that Bud would no longer protect me at all. In fact, he would be happy to help feed me to the wolves. I was not any safer at all with him and possibly in greater danger. I would have never been there on that street if it weren’t for him and his long phone calls. I decided I couldn’t wait to get back to Indiana to leave him. I told him the next day he needed to find a place to live. We went out and got him an apartment at a temporary residence complex. Naturally, I paid for it.
AIDS IN THE BUSINESS
Even though I was through with my life with Bud, I was still afraid to be anywhere without him. I was especially afraid to go out on the road by myself. I had a gig coming up in Canada. Out of fear, I asked him to go with me. The club owner was going to pay for two rooms and that way I would have my space and privacy. It was very important that he know this did not mean we were getting back together.
It was a long and stressful plane ride from LA to Toronto and we didn’t get along for one second of it. By the time we got through customs and had my work permit, I was so anxious to get to my room and be alone that I thought I would explode. Since Bud was with me, supposedly doing all the jobs he used to do, I assumed he would know where we were staying. He did not. He had not called the club or the agent to find out any information at all. When I called the club from the airport, the manager on duty said he didn’t know. He wanted us to go to a nearby bar and wait for the other manager to get back from his break. He would be back in an hour and we were to call him back. A bar was not a very good place for us to be in our moods.
From the moment we sat down, we were drinking shots as fast as they could pour them. Bud and Veronica argued all the while. By the time we finally got the word on where we were to stay and got checked in, we were in the middle of a very big fight. We were both drunk and neither of us held our tongue. Eventually I found Bud standing above me in my room with his hands around my throat. I pretended to pass out so he would think I was dead and finally let go, which he did. The rest of the week was horrible. I covered the bruises with thick make-up. I couldn’t wait to get back home where I felt safer and had a support group of friends.
It was a very difficult time of life for me. I was afraid to live anywhere without a man to protect me, yet I had heard that 3/4 of all female victims of homicide are murdered by their own husbands or boyfriends. I wasn’t safe with him and I wasn’t safe without him. I was terrified to leave the house, to get groceries or to fill up the gas tank of the car. I wanted to be with my children all the time to protect them, but I could not take them with me on the road. Having stopped making movies, I was not making enough money to take them any more. Even if I had been making enough to afford three extra tickets and a nanny’s pay, where could I find a reliable person who was available only one week every other month? That is all the work there was on the road because so many other actresses were now dancing.
I started to go on the few gigs I did get by myself. It was amazing to me every time that I returned safe and paid. The more times this happened, the more confidence I got. It was empowering to return from a week in Canada alone with everything I left with and a paycheck.
Whenever I went out of the house, I thought everyone was staring at me and knew who I was. More often than not, my suspicions were verified when someone would ask me for my autograph. In LA, it wasn’t so bad. Most would politely ask and then leave me alone. In Indiana it was very different.
People in the Midwest are not accustomed to seeing actors they have watched in a movie or on television out and about just living life in their community. When a particular actress is known for explicit sexual movies in an area where conservatism is the norm, the problem is compounded. I felt like these people were staring at me as if there were no way we could ever have anything in common. I was a monster in their eyes, an alien. They made no effort to hide their stares or censor their stupid remarks. They assumed I lived a lifestyle completely different from theirs, marked by late night parties, seductive attire, alcohol and drugs and not one shred of responsibility. Many people expressed the mistaken opinion that I was independently wealthy. To live as they fantasized, I would have to be!
People don’t know about the low budgets in X-rated entertainment. They see “actress” and they think “money”. Fame equals fortune in their eyes. People think anyone who lives or works in Hollywood is rich. It sounds so glamorous to have made dozens of movies. It is hard for some people to distinguish X-rated movies from mainstream ones in some ways and the salary of its stars is one of them.
The word “retire” has a very different connotation in this business than it does for any other. It is a polite way of saying an actor or actress is no longer accepting roles in movies. It does not mean that the actress is not getting offered roles anymore, nor does it mean she is wealthy enough to quit working for the rest of her life. I was amazed at how many guys would come up to me after a show in some gentlemen’s club and say that I looked good enough to get a role, why didn’t I contact the video companies and tell them I looked this good? They were sure I could still get more work. It never crossed their minds that maybe, just maybe, I didn’t want to do that work anymore.
New people were always getting into the business. Actresses read ads for nude models in the newspaper and called “Pimp Sleaze” at “Whore” Modeling Agency. When a new girl came in and decided she wanted to perform in X-rated movies, she was sent down the street to a clinic to get tests for Sexually Transmitted Diseases, including AIDS. One such prospective actress came to “Pimp” on a Friday afternoon. It takes a few days to get the results of the AIDS test, and hers were not due back until after the weekend.
A shoot was in progress over that weekend and “Pimp” had supplied most of the talent for it. One of the actresses did not show up. The producer called “Pimp” to complain. The production company needed to fill the role. Did “Pimp” have anyone available? New girls are what the industry thrives on and if someone was the first to cast an actress that later became a big star, it would bring them lots of sales. The production company was angry and “Pimp” needed to do something extra to appease them, and quickly. They wanted to replace their no-show with someone new. “Pimp” told them of a girl whose test results were not in yet, and they agreed to hire her. It did not matter to them that she might have a sexually transmitted disease.
The entire industry had a policy regarding testing. Most talent were willing to perform explicit acts without condoms. Every six months actors were to be tested for all STDs. Given a clean bill of health, they were to take their “papers”, proving their status, to the set every day and present them before each sex scene to the director and any other
talent they were interacting with. After everyone had viewed everyone else’s test results, the scene would commence. In real life, it did not work this way very often, if ever.
I have heard many people say “I forgot my tests.”
“Oh it’s OK, don’t worry about it, I know you’re clean.”
“Yeah, you can tell, your fingernails are clean.”
People felt awkward about turning down work on the set. They were afraid they would get a bad reputation and never get hired again, or offend the person they were supposed to be working with. All actors and actresses are asked who they do and don’t want to work with. If someone were to alienate themselves this way, they might never get work. So it was no surprise that people would still work with this new girl even though her AIDS test results were not back yet.
When her test result did come back, it was positive! The industry panicked. First, the people who had worked with her and those that had subsequently worked with the group who had had direct contact with her were quarantined. No one wanted to have sex with someone who had been exposed to the virus. Everyone did this voluntarily and the actors and actresses decided they would wait three months to work again.
The new girl was asked to get a second test to confirm the results. Everyone waited anxiously to hear back from “Pimp Sleaze”, and waited… and waited. The girl disappeared and her phone was disconnected. She was never to be seen or heard from again. We wanted to err on the side of caution. We all assumed that the test had been accurate.
The third result of all of this was to form a performer union. Our interests had long been abused and in need of protection on the set. Now that it was a matter of life and death, those who cared about their life wanted to protect it. The first policy we would establish was “No condom, no scene.” We never wanted this horrible thing to happen again.
All the talent that was quarantined were involved, as were several other health-minded individuals like me. The more people who jumped on the condom bandwagon, the more companies hired people who would work without them. It wasobvious we needed leaders to talk to these companies to persuade them that this was not only a healthy move, but also a smart one politically. We reasoned that we needed a male leader and a female leader, as the issue was sexually divided. Many male performers did not want to work with condoms. They were not at such a risk, statistically. The women on the other hand were much more likely to catch AIDS after being exposed to the virus. Votes were taken anonymously and I was elected as the female leader and Ira L. was elected the male leader.
Ira is a very articulate and bright man with no fear of expressing his illuminating views on all subjects. His area of expertise was in the dominance field, and he was a very talented director. He was a perfect representative. It was an honor to be chosen to work with him.
Almost every day for over a month we set up meetings with talent agents and producers. Everyone said it would take too long to stop shooting and put on a condom and the guy would go soft. They said it would look awkward, the public would never buy it, and gave other weak excuses. At first, they were polite when they listened to our side of the story, then they grew impatient. They thought we would have given up this silly notion long ago. They didn’t want to hear from us about it any more. Suddenly people known to prefer to work with condoms were sitting at home. At one point, my life was actually threatened by Pimp Sleaze the agent if I dared to go public about what had happened in our business. All the people I had been defending on television as having a right to do this business, swearing they did it with compassion and good intentions, were suddenly showing a side I had never seen before. They had sent me to those three-day workshop years ago to learn how to give better interviews and represent our industry to the public. I was to show everyone we cared about our people and that sexual freedom was a right and necessity for mental and physical health. Now these people were turning around. They wanted me to keep quiet about this life threatening issue that they were choosing to ignore!
Almost every night we had meetings with the other actors and actresses to tell them what had been discussed with the producers and agents during the day. It was very difficult to tell these people that their lives were not worth a few minutes or a couple of dollars. It was hard to hear it myself, much harder to tell it. They could not believe that these people in positions of power were taking it all so lightly. We thought up newer and better ways to present our point, like the fact that the all-male cast movies had used condoms for years now, and they were experiencing a constant increase in sales. We brought up the possibility of a lawsuit for negligent homicide, should someone contract the disease on a set. If we did not police our own industry, the government would surely do it for us, given the chance. We mentioned how we would look in the public eye if we turned out back to this issue. We had a responsibility to portray safe sex! That was when my life was threatened, as if silencing me could keep the entire incident quiet, and as if this was the only time such a thing could or would happen. They closed their ears to the fact that the AIDS test papers were not enough protection and were not being used. This type of thing could happen again and again unless there was a major policy change. They didn’t care.
Some of the members of the Adult Actors Association were able to get the president of the United Nation’s World Health Task Force on AIDS to come to a sound stage on a Sunday afternoon and meet with just about everyone in our business to discuss the issue. The large building was packed with directors, producers, talent, crew, sales people, and photographers. There must’ve been a thousand people there.
It began with a complete explanation of what had happened to put the entire industry in a headlock. Shoots had been canceled, performers quarantined, friends had turned against one another. Then we gave the history of the performer’s organization and our “no condom, no scene” policy. It was met with boos, jeers and loud shouts of disapproval. Finally, our guest speaker was introduced to explain the medical facts about the disease.
Everyone listened carefully as he told how the virus could go undetected for years. After a test, it takes only one exposure to render someone contagious. The virus could go unnoticed untiltheir next test many months later. This time period in-between exposure and the next AIDS test was referred to as a “window”, like a window of opportunity for the virus to strike. Our practice of not using condoms and relying on tests was referred to as a virtual time bomb.
Our expert explained that with so much repeated sex amongst our group, we were like a tribe. It would only take a short time for the virus to spread to each of us if only one was infected. The testing policy was insufficient because of the “window”. He recommended only working with condoms and preferably, dental damns as well, for protection during oral sex. He said it would be suicidal at the very least to continue working without condoms.
Next, the representatives for the producers and directors had a turn to speak. They expressed concerns about time and time being money on a set, and the subsequent loss of revenue if the audience refused to buy such product. The issue that male talent would not be able to perform under such conditions was harped on repeatedly. Bill Margold and Lynn LaMay called a safe scene a fake scene. They considered sex with a condom to be simulated! They called it “pretend”, “under the sheets”, “like in a real Hollywood movie”, and “not real”. Voices grew louder and emotions were hot. People drew sides that were becoming increasingly further divided as the tension escalated.
I was embarrassed to see people I had considered friends stand up and say that this business was founded on rebellion and that there was no way they were going to be told what to do! The gentleman who had so graciously taken his time to explain the facts on AIDS once again took the podium. He said we were not as smart as the 12-year-old prostitutes in Thailand he speaks to were. He could not believe we were so ignorant and foolish. I was ashamed to be part of something that had so obviously wasted his time. I am sure he thought we were all morons.
A group of us went t
o speak to him as he was leaving. We wanted to assure him his time was not wasted completely and to tell him we had listened and appreciated his speech. He said if we had half a brain cell working, we would either never work again without protection, or simply get out of the business altogether. Most of the people who were there in that final small group are no longer working in the business.
The next week, there was another large meeting in a conference room of a large hotel. About 200 of the industry’s producers, production companies, directors and talent were there to rehash everything that had happened at the last meeting. This time things did not start so civilly. As Nina Hartley started her introductory speech, people were yelling “get her off the stage” and “get out of the business if you don’t like doing ‘real’ sex scenes!”.
Patty R., a successful director and mother of a new baby girl, got up and said, “Nobody in the business has a family anyway, so what does it matter if we want to be reckless with our lives?”
I stood up and said, “Excuse me, but what do you call my two sons? I am not the only one here who is a parent and many are married. Do you think we all hatched? And what the hell does it matter if you’ve got a family or not, does that mean your life isn’t worth anything? Besides, if some of us actually want to protect our health, why should we be forced out of the business?”
Randy West, the first person I ever worked with, was sitting right in front of me. He turned around to face me and said, “wear a seat belt if you are so concerned about your health and your life.”
“Randy, I do wear a seat belt, all the time, now why don’t you wear a condom!”
Everyone broke out yelling at once.
“Nobody’s going to tell me what to do!”
“You just can’t get it up with a condom!”
“If you want to do fake sex scenes, go to real Hollywood!”
“I have children too and you have no right to force me to jeopardize their happiness!”