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Sunday, June 12, 2011

Street Prostitution
























Street Prostitution -The lowest of the Low

“It shall be unlawful to copulate in the streets, or to solicit the sale of sexual acts to passing members of the public.”

Valencia has passed a law to the effect that it is unlawful for people to screw one another in the streets, because people have been screwing one another in the streets. You might think that this is such common sense that it would not be necessary to actually have a law on the books that speaks directly to the practise, but there you are.

In spite of a vigorous attempt to crack down on street prostitution there are thousands of women who wear next to nothing and make it abundantly clear what they have to sell. This practise degrades all women and is a terrible embarrassment.


I came across three or four girls at a roundabout wearing what seemed to be only panties, and they showed large mounds of pubic hair. “Christ!” said I. Because I couldn’t believe my eyes I joined the line of cars going round and round. The girls were being very clever. They were wearing pantyhose and thongs and a patch of fake hair to represent their own pubic hair. It was very effective in getting our attention and gave me quite a laugh.

I have to imagine that a street hustler is engaged in one of the most dangerous occupations of all, because they have no way of knowing who they are going off with, or what the man might want to do to them. Just this week the body of a prostitute was found on the street, having been killed, presumably by a “John”. These are the lowest of the low; the poorest of the poor, and the most unprotected. They will almost all be controlled by pimps, and many will be hooked on drugs, and diseased.

There is no attempt to monitor their health, not even when the police sweep them up and throw them in prison. I must wonder how a woman comes to fall so low in the world. Earlier in this series I told of finding myself involved with a group of six Nigerian women who had been beaten and robbed. They were grateful to me for taking them home, and I was invited to attend a party celebrating one of the girl’s birthdays. I was somewhat reluctant, but I was intrigued by the question: Are whores people too?

In the atmosphere of the party I noticed a circle of friends who it seemed were not in the game, and there was a mature woman who was evidently their controller. A couple of the girls had boyfriends, but this was a group of people from Nigeria, so I think it’s fair to say that the men were probably living off the earnings of the girls. However, if I did not know better, on the face of things they all seemed to be a perfectly normal group of people having a good time.

They came to be on the street because they came to Spain with nothing, and it was desperation that drove them to try and raise some money. They would have also been in the game back home, and coming to Spain was in search of a better life. How very sad to have to continue in the same life here.

The police operate a vice squad in an attempt to clean up the streets. I was walking with my wife when we came across a hooker. I made it a point to pass very close to her so that I could say, in a whisper, that whoever tried to take her home would be in for quite a surprise. She was a he policeman, and not very convincing, but I suppose a man who was drunk wouldn’t know the difference.

I stumbled on the saddest sight of all late one night when my wife and I were driving home from an event in the city. The route we took was through an area close to the port. The traffic slowed down to a crawl because there were a lot of people in the street. The area was dark and grubby, and as we got into the thick of the people we realised it was a sex supermarket. In my headlights I saw an attractive girl take the hand of a handsome middle-aged man, and together they walked toward an abandoned building for a rendezvous. In that situation no-one had any dignity, but those two in particular stood out as a really sad case of a lonely man who was being given a little human warmth in the act of the holding of hands. I have never forgotten that sight.

If a man is looking for love or human warmth from a hooker he is looking in the wrong place. I even think that to expect to take off his clothes as though he were making love would be a mistake. Taking your problem to a whore is like going to the toilet. You are looking for relief, and as soon as you climax, in the mind of the girl it’s done, and who’s next is the question.

I make no judgement over prostitution as a profession. It has been around since time began, and will continue long after I have departed. Of course, for those people who are forced into the game, and who are abused and used by other people, they have my concern and sympathy. Many will require help and understanding, and I hope that they get assistance. I am a happy and content man in my marriage, and I hope that I never have to feel so desperate that I need the services of a hooker. For those who do I don’t think there should be a stigma attached, except that you may be furthering the exploitation of a helpless girl.

For those involved in this kind of life I cannot see anything at all for them to be happy about. As “Jennifer”, one of the prostitutes from Nigeria said to me, she hates the life and she hates the men who use her.

Copyright © 2011 Eugene Carmichael