Exorcise Room - S1 and S2

I’ve kinda rolled 2 epis into one exorcise here. So much stuff overlaps for me anyway, it’s hard to separate it sometimes. And since I’ve been simultaneously recapping the start of S1 and current S2 epis, shit is even more entwined. All of this to say, if this seems kinda confusing, welcome to my world.

I have to start with series 1, Drug Wars, with Nikki explaining the “incentives and earned privileges scheme” to Monica, which is the very foundation of places like Larkhall.

Institutions couldn't function without some variation on this scheme - which is just a basic reward/punishment system. In Larkhall, good behavior is rewarded with the status of Enhanced, where the lure of curtains, duvets, and increased spends keep women compliant; bad behavior is punished Down the Block - swift, harsh retribution when you don't comply.  In places like this, there's always an Enhanced and there's always a Down the Block (with a range of other rewards and penalties in between).

Where I was, there were lots of privileges to strive for or lose. Some were simple, like phone and mail (which you weren’t allowed for the first few months, until you had *earned* them); personal coffee, jewelry, stuff like that. After many, many months, your family could visit.  But all of these privileges were contingent on not getting in trouble. If you were on report, your privileges were suspended or permanently yanked, depending on your offense and degree of severity.

And there were different levels of punishment. It should be clear from my other exorcise rooms that most involved lots of yelling, lots of redundant cleaning and mindless work, and very long days with little sleep. Yes, there were worse things but nothing I really wanna mention.

The piss test drama of Drug Wars. We got tested every 2 months – all 70 of us. We were herded into a large room to drink water until we were ready to pee. And the bathrooms were tiny. I mean, TINY. Staff came in there with you, so you’d sit on the toilet with someone literally hovering right over you. That usually made it difficult to go, at least for me. Hence all the water.

To add to the pressure, the very last male and last female to pee were automatically put on report. I really don’t know why - I guess just to motivate us. Urine day. Totally. Fucking. Sucked.

When Fenner argues to Helen that the women will get drugs anyway, he says something about clean urine being "a saleable item." And he's absolutely correct. At least it is on the street. I knew a guy who kept a mondo-sized mayonaise jar of clean urine - compliments, I believe, of his nephew.  He was on the methadone program and they tested him regularly, so he kept a stash on hand.  

Monica’s arrival – the most obvious thing was Monica’s background/class status and her age.

There are always 1 or 2 older people in places like that. And they couldn’t help but stand out. I’ve already said only a handful of us were teenagers – the majority were anywhere from their 20s to their 40s. So when a 50 or 60 yr old came in (which was rare), they definitely stood out. They were generally smart enough to keep quiet and stay out of trouble.

As far as social status, it was simple - most of us had none. One day, a bunch of us were working outside, scrubbing walkways or something equally ridiculous. We watched as a big black car turned up the driveway and made its way to the main house. As it got closer, we saw it was a limousine.

Well, this was exciting! We left our scrub brushes and ran down to the main house to loiter and lurk.  Turns out it wasn't just someone rich - it was a rich, 18 yr old girl.  It was a big deal because up till then, there'd only been 4 of us teenage girls; we didn't get new ones very often.  And we sure as shit never had anyone arrive in a limo. I don’t think KC was there 20 minutes before everyone knew about her.  Years later, people still talked about KC and the entrance she made.

Long story short (and this has nothing to do with anything): I was on my way out when KC got there. I probably left a month or so later. And she left about 5 months after that. As it happened, we lived fairly close to each other in real life and while I don’t remember how we got together, get together we did. And got into a lot of trouble. We spent an entire summer hanging out – like I said, she was rich. Seriously rich. Her parents must’ve been on permanent safari somewhere because they were gone for months at a time. Which left us the full run of her house. I stayed there the summer that I was 18. We spent days at her country club - swimming, lying in the sun, charging drinks/food/cigarettes to her parents account.  And we spent our nights running the streets. We lost touch a year or so later when I got sent away again.  While I was gone, KC developed a penchant for shooting cocaine. She died from a heart attack a few years later at age 24.

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Season 2 – Looking for Love. Denny, Denny, Denny….where do I even begin? I’ll start with her getting a visit out, her first time in 3 years.

We had the occasional visit out as well, but they were usually limited to court or the hospital. Since we were so far upstate, court trips were grouped together whenever possible, and a whole vanload of us would head downstate. There were always escorts and people with you at all times. I was there about 8 months before I got to go out, and I have to say, it gave you a whole new appreciation for the outside world.

My 1st time to court, I was the only one going to family court since I was 16, maybe 17 by then. Everyone else was going to...regular, adult court.

After 8 months of being away, every little thing was new and exciting: walking on a crowded street, riding an elevator, even traffic jams were cool, as they allowed us to gawk at all the normal people around us. I kinda felt like an alien, observing these things from afar, yet painfully aware of my status as an outsider. All the while knowing that I had to go back upstate at the end of the day.

The first staff member who escorted me to court was RJ, a real fucking tightass. A couple of them were like Di Barker – they’d buy you some candy or coffee, maybe let you walk around a bit. You might get lucky and sneak a phone call on the DL. But RJ wouldn’t let me 3 feet from his side. Everything was by the book with him. Dude wouldn’t have bought me a bottle of water since, technically, it was against the rules. My throat could've closed from parchedness, I'd be lying on the floor choking, and he might’ve taken me to the hospital (I say “might’ve” because remember the story when I broke my arm on the ice)??

I had one very cool trip to court, maybe 6 months after that first one. I lucked out and got the escort everyone liked, a woman named ED. It was autumn, my favorite time of year, and after court, she actually let me stroll around the Village. Walk in and out of shops. We had lunch in a cafe and ended up on the piers, lying there in the late afternoon sun. It's still one of the best memories I have from that time.

There was a girl upstate who reminds me very much of Denny. She was also 16. In fact, there were only 4 of us teenaged girls (not including KC who came much much later). PD was a hard ass, and we didn’t get on well when I first got there. I really was a baby then, in so many ways. And not tough in any sense of the word. No, that took years and years and even now, it’s mostly a façade. I’m still all mush on the inside.

But eventually, PD and I got tight. You sort of can’t help it, going through a place like that together for 2 years. Unless you’re a total asshole, of course, and there were more than a few of those. Sadly, PD was an early AIDS casualty and died when she was just 19 years old.

I don’t really wanna discuss Denny and Jessie, as I’ve already touched briefly on the mother/child thing in another Exorcise Room. I’m more interested in Denny’s relationship with Yvonne, who kind of becomes her surrogate mother.

Late nights in the women’s dorm – groups of us would gather in the lounge and watch tv or listen to music. A lot of the women did each other’s hair, especially the black women. They even taught me how to grease hair, but since I couldn't do much with my own caucasian mop, that was short-lived. But I loved sitting there, listening to them talk about their families and their lives.

I had my own Yvonne when I was upstate.  Brenda was a 42 yr old grandmother when I met her, and she scared the shit out of me with her big black self. Especially when I found out about her felonies - most notably, armed robbery. She actually tried to hold up a bank.

Anyway, she took me under her wing for nearly a year and a half. And tried hard to keep me out of trouble. She was usually the first to kick my ass when I fucked up.

Brenda – you always looked out for me, but I was too young and too stupid to appreciate it. Sorry for giving you toothpaste-filled Oreos. And for short-sheeting your bed. And throwing cold water on you in the shower. Over and over again. Thanks for teaching me how to grill cheese with an iron and brew coffee in a sock. I remember how I cried when you left. We stayed in touch over the next 8 yrs, until you got sick. You probably know that I'm still a bit bratty, despite your many lectures.  You were ahead of your time in so many ways, and I want you to know how much I admired you, right up till the end. I still think of you and your daughters sometimes. Much love for you always. R.I.P.


Christ, I realize how tragic this all sounds, what with everyone dying. And in a way, it kinda is. But it wasn’t all bad there – there were some good times. We had movie night most Saturdays; Christmas and Halloween parties; July 4th and Labor Day barbeques; the occasional dances.

I’ll try to think of some happy stories and post them later. But it will definitely be a short post.

And holy fuck, I’m depressed now....maybe these Exorcise Rooms aren't such a good idea.

Though I think it significant that, despite it all, I managed to graduate from a good university, come back to the city, and get a decent job.  So, that’s something, after all.