Sweatshop36

As Sylk arrived in Jersey at Newark customs August 2, 2001, he was fidgeting and sweating profusely. He
usually did his Amsterdam drug runs through Canada where security was relatively lax. Newark looked
impenetrable. There were drug-sniffing dogs and steely-eyed customs police everywhere. Suddenly Sylk
did not feel like Keanu Reeves in Speed anymore. He felt like Brad Davis in Midnight Express.

He's starting to lose it now. "I never wanted to be the phone sex king. I never wanted to be the adult
internet king. I just want to be happy. What Lizzie Grubman did is worse because she ran from the scene
of the crime. And Puff Daddy – he got off, and he did bad stuff. Me ? I'm just an idiot that tried to kill

myself." Since then, Sylk has been shuttled to the Essex County Jail. On August 23, 2001 he was placed
in a suicide cell. "I'm pretending at this particular moment that I'm suicidal," he says sotto voce. "I rolled
up one of those plastic robes they give you and did a fake suicide thing, because I'm a Jewish pussy and I
can't stand jail. Jail is scary as shit." Despite all this, Sylk says he's optimistic about his prospects. "Best
case scenario, I get probation. Worst case, two to five years." He also says he has no regrets concerning
his short but memorable excursion through the Fashion World via the SoHo Models juggernaut. "When I
was running the agency for the first three months I never had more fun in my life," he says with a lilt in
his voice that could definitely be described as happy. "I was meeting thirty new gorgeous girls a day. It's
just paradise. It's like being Hugh Hefner with the girls warming themselves up all day." When he does
get out of jail he promises to fulfill his dream of opening up a real honest-to-goodness New York model
agency. The fashion talk is clearly brightening his spirits. He says he has a "genuine passion" for the
industry, even though it's a "loss leader." Asked to name his ideal model he replies without hesitation,
"Angelina Jolie. She's so hot that women that never thought about being with a girl say they want to sleep
with her !" He adds pensively, "My girls would definitely be more sexual, but I also appreciate brains. I
would give the edge to a girl with a great brain."

Sylk was arrested at the airport by U.S. customs police on a routine search. "I must have looked nervous,"
he says sheepishly. He caught a break when the U.S. district attorney's office declined to prosecute. He
was handed off to the Port Authority Police who charged him with "possession of exstasy with intention to
distribute." With the going rate in New York of $30 a pill, Jason's haul had a street value of over $160,000.
If found guilty the penalty for the first degree crime carries a maximum sentence of ten to twenty years.

He intends to fight the "intent to distribute" charge. He "swears on his mother's memory" that he was going
to use the 3869 Exstasy pills to commit suicide; they were to be blended in an extra large chocolate Extasty
milkshake. "I already tried it with 100 exstasy pills," and all that happened was that I woke up groggy. I
wanted to make sure this time." Asked why he couldn't consume his milkshake in Amsterdam thus sparing
him the indignity of jail he replies, "I didn't have enough money left for a hotel room." Threatening suicide,
the authorities transferred Sylk to the Anne Klein Forensic Center (not that Anne Klein) in Trenton, New
Jersey for psychiatric observation. It's a highly secure lock-down facility for the extremely disturbed. Think
Cuckoo's Nest with bars. There were no visitors. After being medicated with a highball of Diranten (mood
stabilizer), Clonapin (anti-anxiety) and Saraphin (anti-depressant), Jason Sylk Itzler was feeling much better.
Not everything was rosy, though, inside the AKFC. For one thing, he had been punched in the face three
times by a hulking fellow patient known fondly as "cop killer." But Sylk cavalierly shrugged off the incident
saying, "I can take a punch." He suddenly begins to weep. When the subject of his Miami rap sheet is
mentioned, which includes a 1996 felony charge for "aggravated assault with a firearm," he dismisses it as

if it were a parking ticket. "I've never been convicted of any crime in my life ..." But Sylk did go gunning
for a baseball player in Florida named Pepe ... and ... as it is said: he shot him.

written by Rene Chun

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