Voyeur Page #3

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to gain some kind of notoriety,

because I did something that no one else

had ever accomplished or ever did.

- Or ever thought about doing.

- And I hoped that they don't...

The only thing

that they have in their mind

is the fact that I may be a pervert

and a Peeping Tom.

Because I wasn't that.

I was actually a researcher.

How many times did I tell you

that I was a researcher?

A lot.

I said I was a researcher,

and I believe that.

We said to Gay,

"We want you to see"

if you could get Foos to be reflective

at all about all of this,

if he had any misgivings about it,

why he decided to come clean,

"what he thought

his actual contribution was."

He thought of himself as a researcher.

A ridiculous claim.

To me, there's never been any question

that Foos is really disturbed.

A certain kind of sociopath

who just needed the attention.

But taken as a whole, this document

that Foos has produced over decades,

it's so completely fascinating.

Full of strange, weird details.

It's an amazing snapshot

of the American condition

that is interesting

and newsworthy in itself.

In 1980, he promised he would show me

the many written pages

that he had accumulated

on yellow-lined, legal-size pads.

"Approximately 35 years old, white male,

5'10", 180, white collar.

Wife, 35, 5'4",

pleasingly plump, dark hair.

Looks like Italian extraction. Educated."

Somebody else moves in.

"Unknown female companion.

30-year-old black male.

Employment unknown."

There's a little sex here.

Every once in a while, you get a summary.

"Oral sex without intercourse, five."

Intercourse only, 29.

Masturbation only, 1.

Resulting male orgasm, 35.

"Resulting female orgasm, seven."

Shows you how women don't have

that much fun.

You had watched perhaps between 2,000

and 3,000 people a year.

Mmm-hmm.

- Putting in a lot of time, too.

- Oh, till daylight.

Donna used to come up and bring me a Coke.

- Sometimes even bring me a sandwich.

- Right.

Because she knew I was up there.

Said, "Poor old Gerald, he's up there,

and he hasn't eaten."

You can only masturbate, how many times,

a couple times a night?

When you were younger,

you can do it three, four, maybe five.

I got interested in certain people.

And, of course,

I knew who was in the rooms.

I used to keep them there,

as much as I could. I gave them low rates.

One time he's watching a couple

that were very attractive.

He's looking forward

with much anticipation

toward a really good show of sex.

Just as they're about

to take off their clothes,

the guy turned off the lights

and the television set.

And the voyeur is more than disappointed.

He's angry.

They betrayed his anticipation.

And what does he do?

I went down the ladder and got in my car.

He puts on the bright headlights,

parks it right outside the window.

Then he goes upstairs.

Now he can see them.

The guy sees the lights blazing

through the drawn curtains,

and he says,

"Some dumb bastard left his lights on."

In his notes, he refers to himself often

as the voyeur in the third person.

On the observation platform,

the voyeur is a distinct, separate entity.

And I think we exist side by side.

The kind of hours that you spend...

Doesn't mean you're watching scenes

from Deep Throat.

It's not hard-core porno.

You do see sex,

but not as often as you would think.

It isn't boring.

In fact, it's worse than that. It's real.

Life is tedious.

It's people expressing

the tedium of ordinary life.

And even though it's boring to him,

he writes it down,

which is what's valuable

about his document.

Among the hundreds

and hundreds of stories,

there were cases

where people were fairly bizarre.

One time he was in the office

and the cleaning lady said,

"Listen, there must be a sheep

in one of those rooms,

'cause all I hear is bah, bah."

And so he goes up in the ladder,

and he sees two men,

one of them dressed in sheep's clothing,

and the other guy is on top of him,

having sex,

and he's making these sheep sounds.

I had an individual come

into my motel, had a bucket of chicken

from the colonel.

Sat down on the bed,

pulled out about that thick of napkins,

and set 'em over here

on the side of the bed,

and then proceeded to eat this chicken.

Sometimes that made me hungry.

And then, of course, his hands were...

What did he do? He just reached down

and picked up the bedspread...

He got so angry,

he said, "Son of a b*tch!"

Son of a b*tch!

And he goes, "Who said that?"

He went to the window

and he pulled back the drape

and he looks down this way,

then he looks down that way.

Ain't nobody there.

He was not discovered,

but that's the one time he lost his cool.

The thing that used to anger me

more than anything is dogs.

I used to hate 'em

when they were in the rooms.

And as he's up there,

quiet as he is,

not even hardly breathing

if he can help it,

the dog sometimes would catch...

They'd sit there and look.

He could hear anything.

That little sucker knew about it.

Some days I'd be depressed,

because here's what happens...

I'd go up there at night,

and I'd go from one room to the next.

And the only thing I was hearing was

shouting, hollering, complaining, cursing.

All that kind of stuff really bothers me.

By watching different people doing things

that I didn't think was appropriate,

I developed the distaste

for a lot of people.

He really became somewhat cynical.

He wanted to entrap people.

The first thing I started doing

was planting d*ldos.

In addition to the Bible that is

usually in one of the bedside tables,

this voyeur put porno magazines.

I wanted to find out

whether they'd utilize what I planted,

or come up to the office and say,

"Hey, clean your rooms out.

Get one of your maids."

I had a couple of women and men do that.

But the women that utilized it?

That was a different story.

Gerald Foos conducted a test

where he left a small suitcase

in a closet of one of the 12 rooms,

and when the person, or persons,

came in to register in the office,

the voyeur would pick up the phone

and talk to his wife.

"I had a call from a person

who's left a suitcase with $1,000,"

and it's left in a room.

"Do you have any record

of anybody finding that?"

Then they'd go to the room.

As they were hanging up their clothes,

they saw this suitcase.

It had a very small lock,

easily could be broken.

And I was sitting up there watching them,

looking out of the thing.

Then what do they do?

They broke the damn lock.

Now what do they do?

They had to get rid of the suitcase.

They would sneak the suitcase

out of the room,

put it in the trunk of their car,

drive it off really quick.

One person threw it out

the bathroom window.

You're beautiful. The

handsome gentleman to my right is Tony.

- Hey!

- What are you gonna do?

So much of the time...

a voyeur invests...

is propelled by anticipation.

And you're hoping they will do something

to make your time worthwhile.

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