Straight Life

by Art Pepper; Laurie Pepper

  Shortly after I arrived, the insanity took the form of changing the hours. Ordinarily people get up in the morning and set certain daytime hours aside for this or that. Synanon decided to do away with this. They instituted something they called the "twenty-four-hour day." There was a group of bigwigs, the "regents," or whatever they called them-a group of people who were in favor at that particular time with Big Chuck, you know, Big D., the god, the Old Wino. This group would have games together and call each other names and then they'd figure out, "Well, how can we fuck things up and disrupt everybody now?" They decided on the twenty-four-hour day. One day I was told, "Instead of working from eight o'clock in the morning until 4:30 in the afternoon, you're going to go to work at 11:30 at night and work until nine o'clock in the morning." Can you imagine that?

  I'd go to work at 11 P.M. and at 3 A.M. a jitney would come pick us up and drive us down to the club to eat. We'd ride down the street; we wouldn't see a soul, no life, no cars; it was like death outside; and we didn't say a word to each other. We'd go to this ridiculous, old-time club that used to be a millionaire's hangout, now fallen into disrepair, a junk heap full of ignorant ex-dopefiends or whatever you want to call them, nuts, running around trying to be painters and carpenters and carpet layers. You can imagine what the place looked like.

  We'd get out of our jitney at 3:20 and walk into this club that looked like some old movie set for Rudolf Valentino or Theda Bara. And here were these tired-eyed musicians. They were playing music, and the crazy people were standing around; chicks with no bras on were dancing. We'd walk into this mad revelry without drinks, without dope, and go into the kitchen and eat. We'd eat the same thing we had at supper: if we had breakfast at supper we'd have breakfast for breakfast; if we had liver for supper we'd have liver for breakfast; if we had meatballs and spaghetti for supper we'd have meatballs and spaghetti with dripping water running off the plate for breakfast. When we finished eating, the musicians would play a "hoopla," which was the standard dance of Synanon. Some nut invented this togetherness rock-and-roll dance: instead of dancing separately they all danced together, following the same steps. We'd walk out of the mess hall into this false gaiety. We'd sit around surrounded by posters proclaiming the twenty-fourhour day. We'd go to the bathroom. Then we'd get in our jitney and go back to this lonely warehouse, and nothing could be as desolate and miserable as the streets were during this drive, with the occasional sireeeen of an ambulance or a police car or an occasional old drunk staggering by and laying down in the gutter.

  We'd drive up to the warehouse. We'd get out. We'd find the keys. They always had to look for the keys, they were so disoriented. Then we'd go back into the office and work until nine in the morning over figures and money matters. I'd sit and nod out over this thing I was doing, and one of the old hags would holler, "Hey! Wake up! Art! Wake up!" And I'd say, "Oh, you old bitch, shut up!" Faye would call me into her office and I'd tell her they could take Synanon and stick it up their ass.

  That lasted a few months. It finally ended. Everything changed. Every now and then I'd run into somebody who had a little sense and they'd say, "Just cool it. Everything changes. It'll change tomorrow or the next day or next week." I knew I couldn't leave, so I'd go into my games and rave about how much I hated Chuck Dederich and his twenty-four-hour day. I was getting a reputation as the most "negative" person in Synanon. They'd say, "Why don't you just get the fuck out! We don't want you here! You're just ruining our thing!" And I'd say, "Well, I'm going to stay and ruin it for you dumb bastards as much as I can, and when I'm ready to leave I'll leave and not until, and hope you don't like it!"

  While we were on the twenty-four-hour day, summer came, and the only thing I enjoyed at that time was going to the beach and riding the waves, trying to get healthy. If I went to bed when I got off work at about 10 A.M. it ruined the whole day, so instead I'd go down to the beach, stay until two, then grab a bite to eat, come back, and go to sleep. On one of those days I got off work at nine, walked back to the Clump, and I was standing there waiting for the Synanon bus to take me to the beach when I saw this car pull up at the corner. There were a few people waiting there for the bus. I saw this car turn the corner, and I looked, and just as I looked the person in the car looked at me, and I said, "Christine!" Evidently she'd been driving around trying to find me.

  I should say that when you go into Synanon, for the first ninety days you're not allowed any communication with the outside, no letters, no nothing. I'd been there a couple of months, and I hadn't had any word from Christine. The other people were watching. I couldn't run out to her. I motioned to her hoping she'd understand. I wanted her to go down the street and wait for me. Evidently she got the picture. The bus came and everybody got on, but they were still watching me because they'd dug this little byplay. I started to get on the bus. I said, "Oh, I forgot something," to myself, like. As soon as the bus left I snuck down the street where she was parked. I jumped in the car and laid down in the seat and told her to drive.

  She looked terrible. I said, "What's happening?" She said, "Oh, man, it's been awful." She started crying. I said, "What's wrong?" I thought she wanted me to leave with her. I said, "If you want me to, I'll leave." I wasn't ready yet, but I would have gone. She said, "No, let's forget it. You can't leave. You'd just die out here. What would you do?" I said, "There's nothing I can do. I'm too weak now to do anything." At the time I didn't know this, but later on I found out she was already living with some other guy. She still cared for me and she wanted to see me.

  We had a terrible conversation. It was useless to pursue it and so I said, "I'll probably get in trouble for this ride and have to leave." She said, "No, I'll get you back." I laid down on the seat again, she pulled into the back of the Clump, and I jumped out of the car and hid. She pulled out of the driveway and looked back at me. She had tears in her eyes. She said, "Goodbye. I'll always love you."

  A few people had seen me, but there were some groovy people there, older chicks who liked me, who'd been around. We were real friends. I went down to the club, and a few of these chicks took me downstairs. They asked what had happened, and I told them because I knew I could trust them. I cried. I wasn't crying for her. I was just crying for my life.

  I went back into the club and I felt better about everything. I realized that that part of my life was past and, you know, when I was looking at Christine in the car I noticed that she had these panty hose on and they were kind of droopy. She didn't look sexy at all to me. But at that time I realized that I was thinking about sex again. I had had no sexual desire for a long time, since I'd gotten sick. I'd been getting ready to leave Synanon and go get loaded. I'd been thinking, "What's the use of trying for something I don't even want?" But when I started getting these old feelings, life seemed worth living and I didn't want to go out and ruin it by getting loaded and destroying my health.

  Little by little it happened. I found myself looking to see who was going to be in my games, and if there was a groovy chick I'd watch to see where she sat so I could look at her during the game. Everybody was passionate because they weren't getting loaded anymore. Everybody was going through the same thing. I'd sit across from a chick; she would pretend that she was crossing her legs; and you know, they do little things so you can see up their dresses or they bend over. I started using these games. I'd talk to the chick and say, "Boy, I'd sure like to suck on your cunt!" Everybody would flip out and call me a dirty, nasty, rotten person, but I knew the girl I was saying it to liked it. Not the other ones. But you could say anything you wanted, and it was exciting, and the games changed for me from being nothing but hate sessions into a sexual trip.

  I went to my tribe leader and said, "Man, I'm really getting a reawakening. I've really got eyes to get laid." He said, "How long you been here?" I think it was two, two and a half months. He said, "Well, being as you're an older guy, just start looking around and if you find a chick you have eyes for who has eyes for you, tell me and we'll talk about it. It's gott
a be within certain guidelines. You're a newcomer so you can't go with an oldtimer chick, and certain chicks are, like, bad news. We want a chick that's going to be good for you. Look around. See someone you like and let me know, and I'll tell you if it's cool." From that minute I started looking for someone to make love to, and I thought I might even get lucky because a lot of people had found love there.

  22

  Synanon: Laurie

  1969

  THERE WAS a girl working in bookkeeping; she was Faye's secretary. She'd been married to a guy in Synanon Industries who I would later work for. Her name was Trudy. She was very neat and very smart, a great secretary. I used to make excuses to go in and see her just to talk to her. She had a little, upturned nose, and she was slender and delicate. She wore glasses. She had light hair, a light complexion, and a beautiful body. Every now and then I'd walk home with her from work and we'd eat together, things like that. I could tell she liked me.

  I talked to her one day when we were having lunch together: "Boy, the one thing that's- really a drag here, once you clean up you have a real strong sexual drive and it's such a hassle. You can't see somebody you like and make love. You gotta go through that whole thing." I looked at her and I said, "You really turn me on. I'd sure like to make love to you." She blushed and said, "You would, huh? Well, I feel a strong attraction to you. I'd like to if we could." I told her, "I've talked to Bob and I have permission if the person is acceptable."

  I went to Bob. He was in his little office. Each tribe had an office of their own in the club. There were a few people sitting around. I said, "I'd like to talk to you privately." They all walked out of the room, and I closed the door. I said, "Do you remember the conversation we had the other day?" He said, "Yeah. You mean you found somebody already? It's only been two days since we had that talk!" I said, "Well, I've been looking all this time, and there's a chick-she's nice, she's not too young, and I'm sure she's not scatterbrained or crazy or any thing." He said, "Well, I'm all for you having an old lady and going to the guestroom. It might help keep you here. It sure helped me when I was a newcomer. Who is it?" I told him and his face dropped. I was sure he'd bend over backward to get anything going for me, but I found out later it wasn't up to him. He'd get beat up by other people in the games if he didn't follow the guidelines. He said, "Oh, Art, I know Trudy well. She's a very attractive woman, and you two would probably make a nice couple, but I'm sorry. It can't be. The first thing, right off the bat, is that she's been here too long, five years. But the main thing is she's just been divorced and it was a traumatic experience for her. She needs somebody to help her get over him; that's something you don't need. It's too emotional, too involved. The third thing is she's a square. She's never been a fiend, and it just wouldn't be good. There've been people in the past who've wanted to get into similar relationships, and if you got to do it in two months, which is a very short time, it would create a lot of animosity and envy. It just can't be. It'll take you a while before you realize that the things that are done are done in your own interest. Trudy could drive you right out of this place. She'd probably like to leave since her marriage has broken up. Imagine you leaving with her! You'd die. Just keep lookin' around. There's all kinds of chicks."

  So that was that. I started looking throughout the club and on the bus and everywhere, and I started asking girls how long they'd been in Synanon and how old they were. I got a reputation of being a real flirt, but I wanted to find someone and I wanted everyone to know .1 was available.

  There was another girl, Rhonda, who'd been married to a guy that was there. We had always talked; she would give me things; and she'd told me, more or less, that we should get together. Rhonda was sexy looking. She had more outward sex appeal than Trudy, but Trudy had more class. Rhonda was kind of a dog in a way, but it was fun being around her. She had large busts and a fair body; her face was kinda strange. She was a tall girl, and her legs were a little too thin for the rest of her. She had straight, brown hair, and she was also very intelligent. She was a real climber. That was one thing I didn't like about her. She used people to further herself. We were sitting on the couch one day, and she was flirting with me like she always did, and I told her what Bob had said, that I could start looking around. I said, "Would you like to get together?" She said, "Oh, man, I wish you could have asked me a little while before! As you know, I'm ambitious and you can't offer me anything now other than the envy of the other girls who have eyes for you. I've got a thing going with So-and-so." This was a guy that was a big shot. He later became a director in one of the Synanon houses. They were going together, and he could really further her ambitions because he was well thought of by Chuck. He was being groomed for an important position and could really help her. She said she cared for him, too. I said, "You missed your chance." She kissed me and everything. She rubbed herself against me, but my feelings were hurt.

  There was another girl I liked, a redhead I was working with in bookkeeping. She was a newcomer like me. One Sunday I saw her in the club and went over and started talking to her, and while we were talking a blond came over who had been around for a couple of years and she asked the redhead, "How would you like to go for a walk?" It was a beautiful day. She turned to me and said, "Would you like to come with us? Sonja is coming and there'll be four of us." We all signed out and went down to the boardwalk. I walked with the redhead, bullshitting and all that. We'd always flirted. We walked by the beach and it was hot. Somebody said, "Let's stop and get a Coke or something." We sat down at a table. I was sitting across from the blonde, and she really started coming on to me. She was another secretary. She was thin with a beautiful complexion, and her hair was cut short in little curls, an old-fashioned hairdo like a bob. I noticed that she had hardly any breasts, but she had a nice ass and she was tall and there was something about her eyes-they had a sexy quality. She had blue eyes. You could tell she was a natural blonde.

  We left this restaurant, and now I was walking with her instead of the redhead. We got back to the club and the blonde said, "Why don't we go down to the beach?" The redhead and the other girl both had things they had to do, so this girl turned to me and said, "How about you, Art? Would you like to go?" I had my bathing suit down in the men's locker room so I said, "Okay, I'll put on my suit." She said, "I've got mine underneath my clothes."

  Synanon had a private beach, and there weren't many peo ple out at the time. We met. She had a bikini on. She had a beautiful stomach, beautiful legs, and nice feet, and she had blonde hairs on her legs. She already had a little tan. We laid down on the sand and started talking. I told her how hard it was to stay in Synanon when you didn't have any contact with a female. She said, "I know what you mean." I said, "Who do you go with?" She said, "No one. I really understand what you mean. It's murder." I looked at her and thought, "Well, what the hell. She's clean." And I liked the parts of her body I could see, and she had sexy eyes. I said, "I believe that anybody can be compatible if they want to be. How would you like to get together with me?" She said, "Do you really mean it?" I said, "Yeah." She said, "I'd love to!" The next day I went to Bob Holmes and he said, "She's fine if you have eyes, but make sure. If it's the wrong chick you'll pay a lot of dues to get out of it.'

  The next time I saw her in the club I asked her if she wanted some coffee. I had observed her a few times walking around and-when I really got into it-if I could have balled her that Sunday it would have been nice, but to have to go through all the "courtship" and then the "relationship" and the games with her ... We just didn't mesh. I realized I'd made a mistake and something had to be done. I found out who her tribe leader was, a woman, and went to this woman and told her the story: "What do you think I should do?" She said, "I'm glad you found out now. That girl is very together. Just tell her outright you don't really care for her that much." That afternoon I had coffee with her again, and before I started speaking I could tell she knew what was happening. A very perceptive girl. I started mumbling something and she said, "You don't
really have eyes anymore. It's good you told me now. I'm disappointed, but I'll get over it." She walked away from the table, and I saw she had tears in her eyes, and I thought, "Oh, man, what a scene this is! This is ridiculous!"

  Things kept going wrong. A woman who'd been in Synanon nine years hit on me, but Bob wouldn't give his permission. She went to Chuck, but he wouldn't give his permission either, and I was really relieved because I didn't like her that much. A friend of mine who was a lesbian offered to get in a relationship with me, and I thought about it seriously, but I just couldn't do it. I went out with some nonresident women to a concert, and one of them drove me home and gave me head in the car, and that was great, but I still didn't have an old lady. I was raving in games that I couldn't get this one and I couldn't get that one because of this or that and they beat me up in the games saying, "Why don't you relax?"