Sinner Takes All: A Memoir of Love & Porn

by Tera Patrick; Carrie Borzillo

  I just wasn't reaping the benefits of working as hard as I did. I always had money to pay my bills, but not as much as I should have. Erik was the one who started me getting suspicious of my situation. He said, "You know, your manager is driving a brand-new Mercedes and a brand-new Denali and she dresses really well and lives in this huge mansion and is always taking vacations. And you rent this condo. Your manager shouldn't be making more than you do." That was a big wake-up call for me.

  One day, I called my manager Samantha and I told her, "Listen, I want to have lunch and there's some things I want to get off my chest." She agreed that it was time for a serious talk. She clearly had things to get off her chest too.

  I'll admit it. I was becoming difficult to work with and was growing angry toward her and Digital Playground. I was showing up to work on time and never looking like a hag or anything, but I was bitchy and becoming difficult and demanding. I'd be like, "Fuck you all. I fucking hate you. I need a drink. I'm not going on until you bring me a fucking Coke. I don't want this makeup artist, I want that one." And on and on I'd go. I turned into a full-blown diva.

  It wasn't just about the money. We were growing apart, and I wanted more out of life. I wanted a fuller life--a real relationship with a good guy, a social life, and, yeah, a nicer house and nicer car. It was always work, work, work, work, work. I was overworked, underpaid, stressed out, and exhausted. There was always a store signing or an appearance or a shoot or an interview. The schedule was too much. I was Digital Playground's only contract girl between 1999 and 2002. I was the face of Digital Playground, so all of the promotion fell on my tired shoulders. It was "Tera, we need you in Minneapolis. Tera, we need you in Europe."

  I appreciated the work for a while, of course, but it was taking its toll on me, and I wasn't taking care of myself. It was a battle with my manager and production company, but it was also a battle with myself. I was drinking heavily to mask my true feelings, which were loneliness, pain, depression, and sadness. And underneath it all was this hunger for love and a deep connection with someone. I just wanted to be loved and have someone to love, and at the time I didn't know if staying in porn and working at the pace I was working at would get me to that goal.

  At the end of Night Calls on Wednesday nights, there'd be a social gathering at a bar or on the set to celebrate. Instead of participating, I would drink alone in my dressing room, get in my car, drive home drunk, and then drink more at home by myself. I was becoming very antisocial and experiencing a lot of highs and lows.

  On the days I was feeling high, I'd shop like crazy, spend what money I had, and fuck my neighbor, a grip on a shoot, or sometimes even Erik. And on the days I was low, I'd sleep for twelve hours, not answer the phone, watch MTV2 for hours on end, drink my Jack and Coke or wine coolers or gin and tonic, and pass out.

  At our lunch meeting I basically told my manager Sam, "Look, I've been acting the way I'm acting because I'm not happy and I want a break." She agreed that I needed a break. I was clearly miserable with my life, my relationship, and my work, and I was drinking way too much. It was obvious that I needed some time off to get my shit together. And I started to not enjoy the sex as much as I used to. It became harder to orgasm, because I was just unhappy in my contract and stressed out. And that's no fun. That's why I got into porn in the first place.

  My plan was this: Take a hiatus from porn. Get sober. Figure out why I didn't have a lot of money and where my money was going. And let the fog I was in lift a bit to get some clarity. I had no idea what I was going to do beyond that, but I knew I wanted to have a more normal life. I knew I needed to work on my self-esteem and work on myself, but I just didn't know how.

  CHAPTER 13

  When Tera Met Evan

  As they say, timing is everything. I believe I met Evan at the perfect time in my life, but it almost didn't happen that way. In the late '90s my best friend was a Swedish lady named Anneli Adolfsson. She came to America when she was twenty years old to be a rock-and-roll and porn photographer. And she became very successful in her field. One of the first rock stars she ever photographed was Evan Seinfeld, lead singer and bassist of the hardcore rock band Biohazard. Evan also would play a badass biker on HBO's prison drama Oz.

  Anneli and Evan had known each other for a long time, and she used to hang out with the band and a lot of the other hardcore bands that Evan was friends with. They basically ran in the same rock-and-roll circle.

  One day, she and I were having a fun chick day in good old Sherman Oaks. We were getting our nails done, having lunch, and gossiping as girls do. Halfway through our lunch, she said to me, "I want to introduce you to this guy Evan Seinfeld, and I want to shoot you for his band's album cover."

  I asked her, "Who are we talking about? What band is he in?"

  "Biohazard. They're an awesome hardcore band," she said.

  "Who the fuck is Biohazard?" I was such a snob about it. "Let me know when I can be on a Metallica album cover." I was a little too cool for school about the whole thing. When I was fourteen I was hanging out at a club in Japan with Guns N' Roses, and now she wanted me to do some photo shoot with a band I'd never heard of? No thanks.

  I totally dismissed it, and didn't even bother to lock the name, Evan Seinfeld, in my mind.

  Fast-forward to the year 2002 when I was at the tail end of dating Erik. I would look into Erik's eyes and just not see any sparkle, and certainly not see any love for me. He never told me I was pretty, he never wined and dined me, and he never made me feel good about myself. There was no purpose to it.

  One Sunday night, Erik and I were hanging out at his place, watching HBO's Oz. I'd never seen it before. I looked up at the TV screen and I saw a naked, tattooed man run across the screen with his penis swinging in all its glory. This naked man was so hot and he had this strong, powerful voice. He really struck me because he had looked so bad, so strong and dangerous. He was exactly what I had always wanted in a man. He was totally unlike any guy I had ever dated before, and he was the complete opposite of the guy sitting on the couch next to me. I thought I was getting a tattooed badass when I met Erik, but he was not the real deal. In this naked man on the screen, though, I saw a nice guy with a tough-guy exterior. I instantly thought to myself, "That dark figure who's running across the screen with a big wiener is going to be my husband someday."

  My relationship with Erik was over at that moment.

  Erik was also excited by the sight of this man, but for a different reason. They knew each other.

  "Hey, Tera. Look, it's my boy Evan!"

  "Oh, really. Evan who?"

  "Evan Seinfeld. He's from the band Biohazard."

  It still didn't click in my head that my photographer friend Anneli tried to get us together a few years earlier. But I was intrigued. I kept the name Evan Seinfeld in my head and I started calling around to everyone I knew to see if anyone knew how I could get in touch with this man. It became this "Where's Waldo?" kind of search where everyone seemed to know who he was, but couldn't give me any real leads on how to get in touch with him. Remember, this was before the days of Facebook, MySpace, and Twitter, where everyone is easy to find at the click of a mouse.

  So, I called my friend Paul who worked in the television business. I figured since he worked in the TV industry, maybe he could help me out. He said, "Are you kidding me? You want to meet that guy Evan Seinfeld from Oz?"

  "Yeah, I'm really interested in meeting him. He's really hot," I replied. Paul clearly wasn't happy. He said, "I don't want you to meet Evan Seinfeld. He would be bad for you. He would make you his cock puppet." But that just piqued my interest even more. If this hot, tattooed, strong-looking man with the big dick wanted to make me his cock puppet, that would be fine with me!

  Paul suggested I call up HBO to try to get ahold of Evan. He gave me a number to call, and I did. But I didn't get anywhere. I was transferred from department to department until someone finally spoke to me.

  "Don't hang up!" I screamed, probably soundi
ng crazy and desperate.

  "I'm looking for one of your actors," I told the lady on the phone.

  "Are you a reporter?" she asked.

  "No."

  "Well, who are you with?"

  "No one. It's a personal call."

  Silence.

  "His name is Evan Seinfeld and he's on Oz and I know this may sound strange, but I'd like to give you my name and number so you can pass it along to him."

  More silence.

  I had been put on hold and transferred so many times that I just sat there and waited, thinking she was actually helping me out. A minute went by and I was like, "Hello? Hello? Are you there?"

  She had hung up on me.

  A few days later I was chatting with my friend Anneli, still not making the connection that she had already tried to introduce me to Evan. I said to her, "Hey, Anneli, you know a lot of musician types. Do you know this guy Evan Seinfeld from Biohazard?" By that time I had searched for Evan on the Internet to find out more about him. "I saw him on Oz and he's super hot and I'm really interested in him."

  And then there was yet more silence on the other end of the phone. Finally, I heard, "Ahem. I tried to introduce you to him years ago."

  "Oh my God! That's the guy you wanted me to do a photo shoot with?!"

  "Yeah, yeah. See how well I know your type?"

  But then she added, "Careful, Tera. I know I tried to set you two up, but he does have a reputation with the ladies."

  "Well, I still want to meet him. He looks really good naked," I replied.

  She told me, "Well, I'll tell you what. I'll call him and I'll give him your number, and we'll see where it goes from there."

  What I didn't know at the time was that she called him up immediately after our conversation and told him the following: "My best friend Tera wants to meet you. She's a good girl and if you screw her over, I'll totally kill you." He was like, "Tera who?" So she made him get online and Google my name and he did. Then he said to her, "What is wrong with this girl? She's gorgeous. She wants to go out with me?"

  She gave Evan my number and a few days later he called. It was late in the afternoon and I picked up the phone and I heard his voice, "Hi, this is Evan. Is this Tera?"

  I quickly turned down the volume on the music I was listening to, because I wanted to hear his voice better. I got butterflies in my stomach, and said in a sexy voice, "I'm so glad you called." He sounded cautious on the phone. Not me. I was the forward one, which I would soon find out was quite the opposite of how things usually were. He was the one calling chicks and putting his cards on the table. And at this time in my life, I was the shy one. Being an adult film star, I wasn't the type who would put it out there, because guys expect me to be swinging from the chandeliers. So I usually had to hold it back, but I didn't with Evan. I wanted to swing from the chandeliers with him right away.

  On that first call we talked for hours. We talked about everything. He told me about his son, about the music business, and about his life. He told me that he had seen my picture and that he thought I was beautiful, but he didn't come off as creepy as so many men do when they say, "I've seen your photos and I think you're hot." I loved the sound of his voice. He sounded like a tough, strong, and confident man. I hung on every word he said about growing up on the wrong side of Brooklyn in a Jewish family and living around real New York mobsters.

  I immediately felt close to him. We connected on a deep level because we had similar upbringings and life stories. We both left our families at an early age and started our lives and careers in our teen years. He grew up on the streets of Brooklyn and I on the streets of fashion in Tokyo. We had both been to the school of hard knocks and learned about life the hard way. And neither of us was close to our families at the time.

  We were both lonely. A lot of people loved us and adored us, but it was from afar. He had music fans and groupies and I had perverted guys who fantasized about me. But neither of us had anyone who loved or adored us for who we were outside of our careers. We met at a time when we both longed for something deeper, more meaningful. For once in my life, I didn't see him as a guy who could just satisfy me sexually, but as a man who could fill my heart and satisfy my emotional needs as well.

  I went into work that night full of excitement about Evan. I told all of my friends on set, "He called me! He fucking called!" I had been driving everyone crazy for weeks leading up to that call, especially Crystal, and she wanted to hear all about it. Jamie, our producer, was just like, "OK, Stick. Get onstage now." It was a big deal. Everyone was rooting for me. No one had liked me being with Erik, so they were excited that I was excited about someone.

  I came home from work that night and immediately called Evan back and we talked for about two hours. I could tell that he would be what I wanted. And what I wanted was for a man to take control. I'm more submissive, and I like it that way. I knew he would be the yin to my yang. And every night that week we talked on the phone. It was an amazing, romantic courtship, made even more tantalizing and exciting by the fact that we'd never even been in the same room.

  Our relationship took off from there. Starting with that first phone call in May 2002, we talked on the phone every night. We talked about everything: music, art, history, you name it. We had long, deep, soulful conversations about life, and it really took me to a whole other level of intimacy. I couldn't stop thinking about him. I would look at his picture and fantasize about him and wonder what it was like to actually be with him.

  We decided not to meet in person until both of our shows wrapped. He was shooting Oz during the week and had his son, Sammy, on weekends and was working on a new Biohazard album. And I was shooting Night Calls on Wednesdays and doing photo shoots, signings, or content for my webcast, The Tera Patrick Show, on weekends. So for three months, all we did was talk (and have our fair share of phone sex!). But it was the long talks that made me fall in love with him. For the first time, I took the time to get to know a man emotionally, intellectually, and spiritually before bonding with him physically. The three months apart forced me to get to know him and fall in love with who he was instead of letting my hormones take over and bonding over sex. I never took the time to connect with a man like I did with Evan. That's why it was so different.

  There was so much that I loved about Evan, especially how he was such a good father to Sammy. He was so devoted to his son. He would talk about him for hours. I felt relieved that he already had a kid because I didn't want to have children. I was afraid I would abuse my child because my mother had abused me. I didn't want to repeat the pattern. I knew we were getting serious, and it was a relief that he already had the chance to be a father and wouldn't want or expect that from me if we took it to the next level.

  Since I was going through a hard time when I first started talking to Evan, I initially didn't want him to know about my problems. So I told him that I was taking a break from porn because I just needed a rest. But I didn't tell him right away how unhappy I really was with my manager and Digital Playground or how much I was drinking. It was soon hard to hide my woes. Evan could tell right away that something was wrong. He's a recovering drug addict and has been sober for twenty years, so he saw the signs of my alcohol abuse right away. There would be nights when he'd call me at our scheduled ten p.m. time and I wouldn't answer. Mind you, it was ten p.m. my time in L.A., which was one a.m. his time in Brooklyn. It was sweet of him to stay up and call me at a time that was convenient for me. When I didn't pick up at ten, he'd call back at eleven and then at midnight and when I finally answered he'd say, "You've been drinking, haven't you?" Of course the answer was yes. I didn't pick up the phone because I was either passed out or throwing up or just didn't want him to hear me wasted.

  Evan was the first man to be real with me and call me on my shit. He made me take a good, long, hard look at myself for the first time in my life and face my demons head-on instead of burying them or running away from them. He wouldn't let me get away with saying, "I'm fine. Nothing is wrong.
Life is great." At that time, life wasn't great and I wasn't fine. And Evan knew it and wanted to help me through it.

  If it weren't for Evan calling me out on my problems, I don't think I would've had the courage to admit them to myself. I finally admitted that I did need to shape up, and I started confiding in him about my troubles. For the first time, I had a real sounding board in my life who could give me strong, solid advice or at least help me get to a place where I could figure things out for myself.

  Evan would ask me, "Why are you unhappy?"

  At first, I'd put on a fake, happy front and say, "What? Me? I'm totally happy. Everything is great."

  "No, everything is not great and you are not happy. You're drinking too much and you're obviously in a lot of emotional stress. And you wouldn't quit a career you loved if something wasn't really wrong there," Evan would say.

  I finally let him in and let him help me. We talked at length about my situation with my money, my deal with Digital Playground, my family issues, and my drinking. And no matter how low I was, he was always there to talk me through any problem. He helped me feel good about myself. Underneath all the tattoos was just a nice Jewish boy from Brooklyn.

  EVAN SEINFELD

  T era and I started our three-month courtship over the phone in May 2002. I had seen some pictures of her in Playboy and other magazines and I looked her up online. But I hadn't watched any of her movies. I wasn't that into porn at that point. I mean, I had always watched porn but I wasn't a fanatic who knew all the girls' names and everything about them. And even though I was falling in love with this girl on the phone, I couldn't help but think about what my boys back in Brooklyn thought about girls like that.