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The MagaZine


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ToTaLLy CoOL
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The MagaZine
Sylk didn't get the full $20,000. With the business floundering and both Bruce and Fred fully leveraged
they could only come up with several thousand dollars. Infuriated that he didn't get his full cash payment
up front Sylk called up Baum Multimedia presenting himself as Bruce Glasser. When a new manager
answered the phone he asked her to dictate to him a list of phone numbers for all the girls currently on
staff. List in hand, Sylk began randomly cold-calling the numbers. He knew that almost all the Baum girls
were working anonymously. Many of them were young, and either lived at home with their families, or
had live-in boyfriends that might not necessarily approve of their job. The phone calls, by turns ...obscene,
threatening, and more than a little psychotic, caused many of the girls to quit. When Glasser and Baum
found out about Sylk's attempt to sabatoge their business they were incensed. So were the two new
mafia partners that had just bought into Fred and Bruce's business. They had just contributed $250,000
of mob money to the Baum Multimedia coffers and they weren't about to let some punk from Miami
compromise their promising new investment. On July 27, at 6:23 p.m. Bruce Glasser called Jason Sylk's
cell phone and left a message accusing him of "corporate espionage": "I think you better turn yourself
into the police. Freddie has new partners. They're very very serious people. They're coming after you
Jason. You better get out of the city and the State of New York. You're in a lot of trouble kid." But Jason
wasn't buying it. Fred had made mob threats before and had even had that gorilla Mike Plaza rough him
up. He was still standing. He continued calling the homes of the girls, telling their mothers and boyfriends
they were whores and sluts. More girls quit.
But when Fred Baum called and left a message on July 28 at 8:41 p.m., Sylk realized the mob
threat was real. It wasn't so much the language. It was the penetrating chill in Baum's voice.
A tone he had never heard before. "Jason, we know it's you. You're going to have the sh--.
You're going to be in bad shape. You're an asshole." Sylk decided to leave New York as quickly
as possible. He asked Mark Baker to suggest an appropriate country where he could relocate to and
pursue a career as a model scout. Baker, perhaps feeling guilty for charging $20,000 for nothing more
than the use of his name, gave his client one last piece of advice. "I told him, 'Once and for all, you'll
never be a model scout or a model agent. Forget the modeling business.' He couldn't go to any Eastern
European country because he'd get killed. And South East Asia was out because if they caught him with
some pot he'd get hanged. I told him to go to Thailand. He could open up a little beach bar for $5,000
called SoHo Models and get laid for ten bucks an hour." But Thailand didn't appeal to Sylk. Not enough
action. He decided instead to go to Amsterdam. A glorious city of enlightenment where drugs, sex,
and every other vice imaginable were legal. When he arrived he checked into the Krasnapolsky Hotel
on Rembrandt Square. He spent his money getting high in the tourist cafes and on hookers in the red
light district. If he had to be on the lam, Amsterdam was a good place to be. It was while he was getting
stoned in one of the cafes that he had another eureka moment. Running away from adversity was, to use
his own words, "crazy." Mob or no mob, he would return to the States, open up an internet sex service
in Miami (now that he had learned how not to run one, it would be easy), and use the profits from it to
return to New York, hire the best booker in town, and re-launch SoHo Models properly.
But he needed some capital first. He took the remaining $3,000 cash he had and bought 4,000 exstasy
tablets.
By the time he was ready to go home, several days later, he had 3,869 left. He put the pills in a
plastic bag, strapped it to his body, and got on his Singapore Airlines flight bound for Newark International.

The 7th On Sixth -
C.F.D.A. Scandal

Amsterdam, Holland. Photo by Bettina Cirone.
" GOD IS ",
see ...
New York City. Take it to The Bank. Photo by Richard Renda.
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