sex in the city: why and how street workers select their

Journal of Contemporary Ethnography2014, Vol. 43(6) 659 –694

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Sex in the City: Why and How Street Workers Select Their Locations for Business

LaVerne McQuiller Williams1

AbstractDespite a well-established literature on the sociology of sex work and sociology of sex and place, currently we know very little about how and why sex workers choose to work on the streets that they do. Using the case study of a city in upstate New York and drawing upon Michel de Certeau’s (1984) theory of spatial patterns, this study builds on these literatures by discussing the importance of place and space in relation to sex work, namely how and why sex workers choose their locations for business. Data are drawn from semistructured interviews with female and male sex workers, police officers, and an outreach worker. The findings reveal the ways in which these spaces of street sex work are reworked by sex workers in response to strategies imposed by the police, community residents, and others. Within these spaces, sex workers employ a number of tactics to maximize business and minimize detection, arrest, and violence from clients and other sex workers. Directions for future research are also discussed.

Keywordssex work, street prostitution, geography

The nature of street sex work has been studied fairly extensively in the United States and worldwide (Cohen 1980; Hoigard and Finstad 1992; Duncan

1Rochester Institute of Technology, Rochester, NY, USA

Corresponding Author:LaVerne McQuiller Williams, Department of Criminal Justice, Rochester Institute of Technology, 93 Lomb Memorial Drive, Rochester, NY 14624, USA. Email: [email protected]

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1996; McKeganey and Barnard 1996; Hubbard 1999; Lowman 2000; Hubbard and Sanders 2003; Sanders 2004; Bernstein 2007). Empirical find-ings from the literature on the sociology of sex work have primarily focused on women who sell sex and the discourses surrounding morality, sexuality, gender, and power. Moreover, much of this literature focuses on (1) female sex workers, (2) the relations of intimacy between clients and sex workers, (3) their strategies for soliciting clients, and (4) regulation of street prostitu-tion. Drawing primarily from the literature of sociology of place and space, researchers have examined the relationship between sex work and space, merging an analysis of the geographical space with dynamics of ecological conditions of various formal and informal work spaces in which women sell sex (Lowman 2000; Hubbard and Sanders 2003; Sanders 2004). The purpose of this study is to suggest the extension of two theoretical frameworks: soci-ology of place and sociology of sex work. Such an extension provides impor-tant insights into sex work by discussing the importance of place and space in relation to sex work, specifically how and why sex workers choose their loca-tions for business. To date, there have been no published studies about the choice of locations used by street sex workers for their business. Therefore, this article focuses on the allocation of space and place for sex work by male and female sex workers and how it relates to their efforts to maximize busi-ness and minimize detection, arrest, and maintain their safety.

Drawing upon Michel de Certeau’s theory of spatial patterns, and in particu-lar the ideas of “strategies” and “tactics,” I theorize how sex workers consciously and unconsciously navigate city streets as well as the tactics they use in choos-ing the most optimal locations for maximizing profits, soliciting clients, and minimizing harm. In doing so, I break away from the current understanding that sex work, as a result of changing political and economic conditions, has resulted in a decline to street-level work and a shift to indoor prostitution (Bernstein 2007). Instead, I argue that street sex workers often avoid indoor, private spaces with clients because it renders them vulnerable to becoming victims by clients. As such, the boundaries between public and private spaces for sex workers are vital. Sex workers negotiate space differently depending on the duration of their relationship with a client, and having optimal public spaces that are public enough to solicit clients and escape violence, although private enough to avoid detection from community residents and the police.

Sociology of Place and Space

The impact of the physical environment on human behavior is widespread in the literature (Gieryn 2000; Bell 1997; Sanders 2004). Focus on environmen-tal forces on human behavior has led to a number of scholars to distinguish



McQuiller Williams 661

the environment into “space” and “place.” Block and Block (1995, 146) noted that space and place are distinct concepts, with space being defined as “two-dimensional areas that contain events, specific situations, and spatial attributes of individual places.” Conversely, place is described as “rooted in space” and is defined as a “small area that reflects and affects the activities of the participants in the short run, and plays a role in the specific conflict at hand” (Block and Block 1995, 146). Gieryn (2000, 465) argued that space and place are related concepts but are distinct theoretically in that space is “what place becomes when the unique gathering of things, meanings, and values are sucked out . . . (while) place is space, filled with people, practices, and representations.” Michel de Certeau (1984) also notes how space can be understood differently from place, in relation to particular ways of doing. According to de Certeau (1984, 117), place behaves strategically and “implies an indication of stability,” while space behaves tactically and “is the action of using a place” in order to challenge the strategy in place.

Scholarly interest in environmental forces has led to a burgeoning interest on the relationship between sex work, place, and space (Cohen 1980; Hoigard and Finstad 1992; Duncan 1996; McKeganey and Barnard 1996; Hubbard 1999; Lowman 2000; Hubbard and Sanders 2003; Bernstein 2007). These empirical findings have primarily focused on the analysis of the geographical places in which women sell sex and the discourses surrounding morality, sexuality, gender, and power. Previous research suggests that the spaces in which sex work is advertised, negotiated, and administered is tied to why street sex work is located in certain streets of the urban landscape (Sanders 2004, 1703). Sex markets do not occupy haphazard spaces in cities or towns, but rather “are highly politicized by competing interests such as community protestors, services that advocate for sex workers, and law enforcement agen-cies and sex workers” (Sanders 2004, 1703). Similarly, Symanski (1981, 35), examining the location of female sex workers in Europe and the United States, noted that sex markets were “determined and constrained by history and geopolitics,” and their locations are a result of “where public opinion, financial interests and those who enforce the law have pushed prostitution or allowed it to remain.”

The notion that the locations of sex markets can be attributed, in part, to strategies enacted by powerful groups, including the police, policy makers, and protestors is widespread in the literature (Cohen 1980; Symanski 1981; Reynolds 1986; Matthews 1990; Miller, Romenesko, and Wondolkowski 1993; Hubbard and Sanders 2003). For example, Lowman (1992), in a longi-tudinal study relying on interviews with sex workers, participant observation, and official data over an eight-year period, found that displacement of street prostitution was a direct result of periodic crackdowns to combat prostitution




by police task force units in Vancouver. Hubbard and Sanders (2003, 84), on the other hand, noted that the displacement of sex workers in a red light dis-trict was not a result of pressure from the police and protestors but rather an outcome of the responses of sex workers to strategies of control whereby the new location was seen to offer better opportunities for sex workers’ business in light of the new nightlife and entertainment strip.

One of the theoretical bases of the extension of the literature that I suggest here to understand how and why sex workers choose their locations for busi-ness can be contextualized within Michel de Certeau’s (1984) ideas of strate-gies and tactics. De Certeau (1984) argues that daily spatial practices contain activities such as contending and maneuvering for urban spaces and are linked to institutions and structures of power to establish the processes of order and discipline, which de Certeau refers to as strategies. These strategies denote the power of prevailing structures that organize and formulate spaces according to political and social institutions, which in turn can create, design, and enforce spaces. Conversely, tactics refer to the actions of those who, often the weak and/or marginalized in society, seek to escape processes in order to manipulate and convert space to their own ends. As de Certeau (1984, xix) argues, “many everyday practices are tactical in character. And so are, more generally, many ‘ways of operation’: victories of the weak over the strong.” Drawing upon de Certeau’s work, Hubbard (1999, 172) notes the importance of “tactics of resistance” used by sex workers to manipulate and divert space for their own purposes:

Rather than using spaces of sex work to directly oppose forces of law and order, it seems that many prostitutes seek to re-work and divert these spaces to create an alternative meaning of space—a space that has its own alternative morality, rhythms and rituals which are often invisible to outsiders. In this sense, many of the resistances of sex workers rely on not being noticed; they create their own hidden spaces in which their dissident/sexual acts can be carried out unnoticed by the police. The principle form of resistance in this case is for sex workers to establish social spaces and socio-spatial networks that are, at least in part, insulated from control and surveillance.

In discussing the relocation of red light districts in Birmingham, United Kingdom, Hubbard and Sanders (2003, 84) note how these tactics of resis-tance are evidenced in sex workers’ preference to take clients to specific loca-tions to limit the amount of time each transaction took place, and the selection of a location for the sexual transaction which is out of the view of police and others. McKeganey (2006, 161) similarly describes how female sex workers, in order to avoid arrest, reduce the amount of time on the streets, whereby some women provide clients they met on the streets with mobile phone




numbers to arrange future contacts. Symanski (1981, 174) notes how sex workers locate themselves where they can be viewed by potential clients, and notes “bus stops and intersections with traffic lights are preferred soliciting stops” because they provide a legitimate purpose for people to be in an area in case the police approach.

Sociology of Sex Work

Within the social sciences, there is a well-established literature on the sociol-ogy of sex work, much of which tends to focus on (1) female sex workers, (2) the conditions of their labor, (3) their strategies to solicit clients, and (4) the relations of intimacy between clients and sex workers (Chapkis 2000; Dalla 2000; Scoular 2004; Bernstein 2007; Weitzer 2009).

Within this framework, there has been a substantial focus among scholars on the negative aspects of street work. Given their visibility in the streets, a number of scholars suggest that street sex workers are frequently subject to arrest (Dalla 2000; Bernstein 2007). Along these lines, Chapkis (2000) argues that it is the physical location, and consequently the degree of public visibil-ity of where sex workers work that determines their risk of arrest. Research also demonstrates the high likelihood of street workers experiencing violence from clients (Valera, Sawyer, and Schiraldi 2000; Hubbard and Sanders 2003; Sanders 2004; Penfold et al. 2004), passersby who target sex workers for rob-bery and other acts of violence (Benson 1998; Hubbard and Sanders 2003), and other sex workers (Benson 1998; Hubbard 1999). The commonplace of violence experienced by street sex workers has resulted in several techniques to minimize violence. These include some sex workers’ taking a deliberate route past other sex workers or security cameras prior to selecting a location that is out of the view from police and others (Hubbard 1999; Sanders 2004), while others engage in “doubling,” whereby women work together and one watches out for the other (Hubbard 1999, 173). McKeganey and Barnard (1996) similarly describe how women work together to minimize the poten-tial for violence and exploitation in that some insist that fellow sex workers accompany them to the location where the sexual act(s) is to be performed. For female sex workers working alone, they often use the trip to an isolated location as an opportunity to assess a client’s risks, and may guide a client to a specific location where the sex worker can escape (McKeganey and Barnard 1996, 33).

Scholars have also noted that the inherent risks of arrest and violence have altered the very nature of sex work resulting in a movement from street mar-kets to indoor markets. For example, it has been argued that in their effort to clean up street sex work in New York City, law enforcement personnel




effectively drove sex workers off of the streets and into indoor markets (Thukral, Ditmore, and Murphy 2005). Sanders (2004, 1714) argues in light of police pressure and exposure to violence on the streets, the movement between street work to indoor markets “is becoming increasingly fluid’ and may reduce the risk of violence as the indoor environments tend to be safer.” Bernstein (2007, 69) notes that the changing political and economic transi-tions via industrialization and risk for arrest have led to a decline of street-level sex work and a shift to indoor work predicated on “one-on-one, technological mediated encounters with clients through cell phones and the Internet.”

Current Study

While the frameworks of sociology of place and space and the sociology of sex contribute to our understandings of the discourses surrounding moral-ity, sexuality, gender, and power and the dynamics of ecological conditions of various formal and informal work spaces, respectively, currently we remain limited in our knowledge of why and how street sex workers choose the locations for business. In-depth interviews from thirty-eight sex work-ers, police officers, and an outreach worker are analyzed demonstrating how male and female sex workers choose venues for their business and the meaning of these choices for the workers. The tactics employed by sex workers to work out of or avoid spaces are given special emphasis in that they reveal how they manage and manipulate both public and private space to their own ends.

Setting and Method

This study is based on qualitative field research conducted in an upstate city in New York from October 2007 to January 2010. The city was chosen because of its high crime rate and diverse demographic profile. Notwithstanding efforts to curb street sex work in the city, including arrests of sex workers and their customers, neighborhood watch groups, and police patrols, all of the police officers interviewed for this research agreed that it remains a large problem in the city.

The city has struggled to combat and control street sex work for nearly two decades. The most concerted efforts to reduce it by residents and the police have specifically targeted an area known as Lyell Avenue. In October 2008, Lyell Avenue Area 230 Group, an organization composed of neighbor-hood residents, city officials, and the city police department spearheaded a public relations campaign to deter prostitution in the Lyell Avenue area. The




230 Group originally formed in 2006 following a two-day conference about the quality-of-life issues that affected Lyell Avenue, including street prostitu-tion (City 2007).

Lyell Avenue runs east to west, and is a four-way lane road that serves as a major intersection. The Lyell Avenue stroll is predominately made up of a potpourri of private residential homes that resemble 1940s/1950s architec-tural design and commercial businesses. The location has a park, a church, and a set of railroad tracks that runs through the street. It consists of a number of mature tree-lined streets and pockets of run-down areas and thriving busi-nesses, which include a gentleman’s bar, barbershop, laundromat, and an abundance of car dealerships and liquor stores.

In many respects, Lyell Avenue represents one of the poorest communities in the county. This is evident from a cursory look at U.S. census track data for Lyell Avenue (US Census Bureau 2007–2011, American Community Survey). According to Census data, 28,872 people reside in the area, and nearly 67% (66.7%) are Caucasian. The median household income is $38,167 and the home ownership rate is 61.8%. Vacant housing units are 6.3%. The per capita income for the Lyell Avenue area is $19,212. Approximately 22.4% of the population is below the poverty line.

Fieldwork took a variety of forms, including semistructured taped inter-views with sex workers, police officers, and an outreach worker, and obser-vations of strolls (i.e., areas identified as street sex work markets). The interviews I conducted were semistructured and included several groupings of questions designed to elicit information about sex workers’ choice of loca-tions for sex work. For sex workers, questions included why they choose/chose to work in specific areas, and the length of time they had been involved in sex work. My access to sex workers was due, in part, to the access and accommodations accorded by my informal contacts with an outreach worker of a center that currently serves as a transition house and provides support groups, on-site AIDS testing, clothing distribution, housing assistance, and case management services to women and men currently involved in street sex work and those who have left. The outreach worker also served as a key informant who described the local context of street sex work in the city. One volunteer, a former sex worker who worked in the center, was recruited by the outreach worker, who provided confidentiality statements to participants, explained the compensation of ten dollars, and set up the interview time. With the exception of one interview that took place on the street, the inter-views took place at the center. The only criterion for sex worker participants was that they had to be eighteen years of age and older.

Police officers were also interviewed in light of research that suggests that police enforcement can impact the location of street prostitution (Symanski




1981; Reynolds 1986; Matthews 1990; Lowman 1992; Miller, Romenesko, and Wondolkowski 1993; Hubbard and Sanders 2003). For police officers, questions I asked included the level of concern for street prostitution, level of complaints, and the law enforcement response to prostitution in the city. To recruit law enforcement participants for the study, I used a purposive sam-pling design. I used this selection process so I could target current or former law enforcement officers who were or who had formally been directly engaged in the street prostitution detail. Such interviewees were limited to either current or former police officers of the tactical unit that specifically handles prostitution detail.

An incentive of ten dollars was given to sex workers and former sex work-ers. Remuneration was not given to any other participants. In all but four cases, which were transcribed field notes, interviews were audio-taped. To ensure confidentiality, the names of all the participants have been changed and participants were allowed to choose their own pseudonym. All proce-dures and protocols were approved by the institutional review board. The interview data were analyzed using the three-stage inductive analysis meth-odology derived from grounded theory (Strauss and Corbin 1998).

The Researcher

Given the qualitative nature of my study, my role as the researcher requires recognition of my perceptions related to sex work. My perceptions of sex work have been shaped by both my personal and professional experiences. As a former prosecutor dealing primarily in offenses against women and as a defense attorney, my experiences with sex work often dealt with women who were victimized (robbed, assaulted, and/or raped) rather than prosecut-ing women for engaging in street prostitution. I also have taught classes at a local jail to women who often had extensive criminal histories, including prostitution, and I have taught a course titled Prostitution and Vice to col-lege students at a local institution. Accordingly, I brought to my study an understanding of the complex and multidimensional nature of sex workers’ lives, which include violence, drug use and addiction, and an array of men-tal health issues.

In addition, my status as a black woman also influenced my views of street sex work because my personal relationships with sex workers revealed that street sex work disproportionally affects poor women of color. Because of my previous experiences working with sex workers, prior academic knowledge, and status as a black woman, I believe these experiences provided me with a unique advantage in that the participants who were interviewed appeared to be quite comfortable in sharing their experiences.




Participants

A total of thirty-seven respondents were involved in the study, including five police officers, thirty-one sex workers, and one outreach worker. The sample of sex workers interviewed consisted of twenty-eight women and three men. The majority of the sex workers (n = 21) were nonwhite, and consisted of twelve black sex workers, six Latino/Latina sex workers, one Asian sex worker, and two biracial sex workers. Ten sex workers were white. The sex workers ranged in age from 21 to 57, with an average age of 33.9.The vast majority (n = 29) of the sex workers interviewed were currently engaged in sex work. For the entire sample of sex workers, the length of time in the sex industry ranged from 2 years to 27 years, with an average of 9.9 years. However, male sex workers (n = 3) had a longer duration in street sex work than female sex workers, with an average of 17.6 years for men as compared to 9.1 years for women. The age of onset into street sex work ranged from 16 to 35 years of age, with an average entry age of 22.8 years of age. Moreover, the majority of sex workers worked independently. Only one sex worker worked with a pimp.

Maximizing Business

Interview data revealed that sex workers are not passive recipients of the urban landscape. Rather, through what de Certeau (1984) refers to as tactics, sex workers shape their environment and restructure space in order to suc-cessfully conduct their business. Tactics include clever tricks commonly used by disenfranchised workers to divert imposed rules to their own ends (de Certeau 1984, 25). Given the illicit nature of sex work in upstate New York, sex workers use tactics in their attempt to maximize profits and solicit clients, and in doing so often create a space of opportunities. Within these spaces, as described more fully below, they may implement or make changes to their spatial practices by which they can advertise and solicit customers in prime locations, and move around with partial visibility.

Many of the sex workers interviewed regard sex work as a business. The notion of sex work as a business is implicit in sex workers’ descriptions of their work in businesslike terms. For example, Ciarra joked about her “sex business” where she noted, “Yeah I make pretty good money, but the 401k plan and medical benefits suck.” Similarly, other sex workers referred to their “johns” as customers or clients. Along these lines, Kinky analogized her work to “serving” customers at a fast-food restaurant and stated, “As long as customers has money for me that’s all that matters. The bjs [oral sex], slurpin’ [sucking testicles], [inaudible] is all on the menu for ’em.”




Findings from analysis of sex worker data show that an important determi-nant for the geographic locations sex workers choose are conditions that are most likely to produce a sufficient customer base. Not surprisingly, the greater the numbers of customers available, the greater the capacity sex workers have to earn money for their services. Customer supply, to a large extent, is a function of customers knowing where sex workers can be found. Of the sex workers interviewed, many acknowledged the importance of cus-tomer knowledge when securing their location(s). Specifically, the majority (n = 18) of sex workers said that what made a location or locations attractive was a ready supply of clientele. For example, Bernice characterized the loca-tions that she chooses to work as “active” places with a “huge supply of men.” Similarly, all of the police officers interviewed indicated that a steady supply of customers was essential for determining levels of street sex work in specific areas in the city. As one police officer noted:

For a [prostitution] market to remain stable, the most important consideration is knowledge of where prostitutes and johns [customers] can come together. Without this knowledge, a meat market for sex cannot occur and would make for ineffective sexual transactions.

Several sex workers employed spatial tactics aimed at placing themselves in what they considered prime real estate locations to solicit clients, specifically highlighted the attractiveness of Lyell Avenue. Johanna, a black sex worker of four years, characterized Lyell Avenue as an “easy pick up spot” where “there are always johns [customers].” Similarly, Vanessa explained that what made Lyell Avenue attractive for her was that it was a known “hot spot” that customers purposely seek “because they know they will find us [sex workers] here.”

Sex workers also emphasized the advantages of Lyell Avenue as compared to other locations within the city:

We are like real estate. It’s location, location, location. Lyell is the best place to be. The other streets aren’t going to let you turn around the monies that Lyell is because it . . . it has the rep [reputation]. The same tricks [customers] will come to Lyell over and over. (Moriah, black female sex worker of two years)

Me and my girls don’t just walk around and mens are goin’ to say, “hey is you working?” If mens can’t find you, they can’t get you. Right? Where’s they gonna find us? . . . Sometimes I do the hook up [establish a location for sex] on the net [Internet] with my dates [regular customers] and we meet at a hotel or somethin’ . . . but most times I’m scoping Lyell for the mens. The mens be walking. They be driving. It don’t matter. They be on Lyell 24-7 (24 hours a day, 7 days a week]. (Toni, white female sex worker of nine years)




Lyell [Avenue] is the known “Ho Zone.” It’s the biggest ho zone around, bigger than Buffalo’s, bigger than Syracuse too. Unless you butt ass nasty, you gonna cop [get] lots of tricks [customers]. You have a whole bunch of guys, your straight [heterosexual] couples, and sometimes you’re crooked [same sex] couples too, always looking for some action. (Zelda, Biracial female sex worker of eleven years)

Jennipher, a male sex worker, initially began working on Lyell Avenue. However, he was prompted to change locations from Lyell to Monroe Avenue because of an “inadequate number” of customers on Lyell and because Lyell “wasn’t known for vertical [gay] fucking.” Jennipher’s need to relocate high-lights the importance of “gendered spaces.” Along these lines, Massey (1994, 186) states that “spaces and places, and our senses of them (and such related things as our degrees of mobility) are gendered.” Within the city, gay and bisexual sex workers inhabit spaces differently than heterosexual women sex workers in that women and men sex workers seldom worked in the same locations. This is because the clientele for men and women sex workers usu-ally was different. Gay and bisexual customers most often preferred men sex workers, heterosexual men most often preferred women sex workers, and both of those customer bases were present in the different hot spots around the city.1

According to an outreach worker I interviewed, men sex workers tended to occupy the most “prime locations,” such as Monroe Avenue, which is the highest socioeconomic area. Men sex workers tended to serve a higher-pay-ing clientele because, according to the outreach worker, men sex workers charged the highest fees since multiple acts were often performed (i.e., oral sex and intercourse) during the same transaction. Women sex workers, in contrast, tended to congregate in all of the hotspots identified except Monroe Avenue. Sex workers and the outreach worker characterized Monroe Avenue as an area reserved for male clients seeking the services of male sex workers. Male sex workers who dressed as women were a special case—they often worked in the same areas as women, although male sex workers that dressed as females working in these locations were sometimes regarded as problem-atic by the women they worked alongside because of the lack of discretion in attracting customers.

Jennipher related how the “reputation” of particular areas made it easier for customers who preferred particular kinds of sex acts and sex workers who provided those specific services to come together:

There’s a lot of places to find prostitutes in [the city]. I mean there’s Jay Street, and Plymouth. There’s Jefferson Avenue too. But you don’t got the traffic of waddies




[male customer seeking male sex worker]. I mean Lyell’s [Lyell Avenue] different. Ain’t nobody but a hard core waddy gonna know about places that ain’t Lyell. It’s [Lyell] been here the longest and everybody, I mean everybody knows about it, your waddies, the cops, everyone. Even if you coming in [the city], just ask for the hookers and somebody’s gonna say “well then hit Lyell” . . . Lyell is more for straight sex [heterosexual] and has that kind of rep. Monroe [Avenue] is a place where men can get with other men. I mean you can get with straight up fags, bears [white men who are usually married and engage in sex with other men on the down low] or hot chocolates [black men, usually single, that engage in sex with other men on the down low].

While the narratives above begin to highlight the importance of places that provide an ample supply of customers and sex workers’ tactics to advertise themselves within these spaces, Jennipher’s narrative begins to highlight other tactics implicit in sex work, which in some cases encompasses the notion of “gendered spaces” (Massey 1994) affecting the spatial practices of gay sex workers and their use of only select spaces.

Negotiation and Administering Space for the Agreement versus the Sexual Act

Sex workers’ selection of attractive and effective places to work requires consideration of locations for two distinct types of acts: (1) the agreement (i.e., cash/drugs to compensate for the service must be negotiated or exchanged and what sex act(s) will be performed), and (2) the accomplish-ment of the sexual act(s) itself. Critical here is de Certeau’s notion of tactics (1984) and the ways in which sex workers shape spaces in order to carry out these two distinct acts. According to de Certeau (1984), tactics arise from the ways in which individuals consciously and subconsciously interpret, interact with, and react to strategies imposed by powerful groups. Tactics can include accepting or complying with the strategy, evading and maneu-vering themselves around its intended properties or taking advantage of the “unintentional opportunities” strategies produce, and subverting and exploiting the system’s various “cracks” (referred to as the process of “reappropriation”).

Findings reveal that sex workers reappropriate spaces to their own ends in several ways. One form of reappropriation adopted by sex workers is the use of public versus private space for the agreement. This determination equates to sex workers’ conscious use of tactics to enhance their safety from poten-tially violent “new” clients, often reserving private spaces for established clients. Specifically, interviews revealed that where the agreement took place varied depending on the relationship between the sex worker and the client,




and all but two sex workers distinguished clientele as either “dates” (i.e., established clients) or “tricks” (i.e., nonestablished clients). For dates, there was no real need for a new agreement as previous acts and price were already in place. On the other hand, sex workers with tricks used one or both of the following tactics to select a location where agreements could occur. The first tactic, which involved a sex worker arranging the meeting place for another sex worker, was the least common of the two. This tactic was used when a potential client was interested in a particular type of sex worker (e.g., a male, an African American, and /or a “prost-i-tot”2) or a particular type of service (urination, anal sex, and/or “plumpkin”3). A potential customer would men-tion these criteria for services to a known sex worker, and if that particular customer did not fit the criteria, a “referral” was made. In such cases, sex workers would often receive a “referral fee” (i.e., proceeds of the profits) for setting up the arrangement.

The second and more common tactic for selecting the location where agreements were reached involved calculation on the part of the sex worker. Typically, after attracting potential customers’ attention, sex workers must then determine the most efficient and effective ways to arrange business and reach an agreement with customers. At the same time, sex workers need to protect themselves from potentially violent customers and detection by the police. In most cases, sex workers did not engage in the agreement and the sexual act in the same location. Agreements with new customers were most often made in a public location. Frequently, sex workers selected a specific street, corner, or intersection to reach an agreement about price and services with potential customers. Parks, too, were often used to discuss business. Similar to location selection for the agreement, location selection for the sexual act(s) itself is a necessary ingredient for understanding the dynamics of street sex work. As discussed below, unlike locations chosen for settling the agreement, which for most sex workers I interviewed involved a single preferred location, place selection for the sex act was more varied and needed to be evaluated and selected almost daily in order to maximize business and maintain safety. Having a range of locations to select from ensured that the act could be carried out in an alternative place if another location was unavail-able or viewed as dangerous.

In light of the geographical constraints of sex work, the challenge of attracting “new” customers who can easily access sex workers is obvious. Accordingly, sex workers often reappropriated spaces through the tactics of visibility that allow them to remain visible so that potential customers who travel the neighborhood are able to spot them. Corners and intersections, usu-ally near traffic lights and/or stop signs, often (n = 21) were used by sex workers. These tactics however, moved beyond simply allowing sex workers




to remain visible in order to solicit clients. Sex workers also restructured spaces through employing tactics of purpose, whereby these places were selected not only because sex workers must be able to attract clients, but also because such locations provide some way to justify the sex workers’ purpose for being in a particular area in the first place. Corners and intersections pro-vided opportunities for sex workers to stand where they can appear to be waiting to cross the street or for a bus. Such areas also provided opportunities for car-using clients to slow down or stop their cars briefly without attracting unwanted attention.

Sex workers also noted the importance of using space to their ends whereby when describing what made specific public locations attractive for their work, their responses often hinged on easy accessibility for clients. Here, such tactics are spatial and social, in that sex workers often choose to work in spaces that are public enough for clients to access them, while at the same time, allowing themselves and their customers to blend into these pub-lic spaces to minimize detection. Accordingly, for sex workers, their capacity to become invisible within these spaces is of vital importance for public sex work. For example, Charlotte, a white sex worker of five years, preferred to do business in public, on a street corner (State Street). Discussing the advan-tages of a street corner, Charlotte said, “Clients have to feel kinda secure when they come to us. State Street has a lot of traffic but it’s busy enough to just blend in.” When another sex worker explained why she chose to discuss business in a park, Nicole, a black sex worker of ten years, stated that, “Edgerton Park allows me and my dates anonymity because so many people are in there and it’s really easy for everybody to get to.”

Echoing Charlotte’s and Nicole’s responses, Rosario, a Latina sex worker of almost ten years, preferred to work at an intersection adjacent to Edgerton Park. She remarked that “it’s best to find a place where guys can stop and approach you real easy. If the streets are too busy, then they’ll pass you by. I mean they can’t just stop in the middle of a busy street. You can’t make no livin’ like that.” Similarly, Michelle, a white female sex worker of eight years who occupied a location on Lyell, said she picked her spot to facilitate cus-tomer solicitation.

Researcher: What are your reasons for working on Glide rather than somewhere else?

Michelle: I park myself on Glide because it makes it easy to talk about business through the window. It’s busy, but not a super busy street, I don’t have to walk around to the pas-senger’s side or have the trick lean over the seats. This way, it just seems like old friends talking on the street.




Johanna conducted business on Lyell Avenue, taking advantage of traffic from a local topless strip club:

I sell in the street ’cause there’s a ton of money out there. You see the men in the street right after they get out the Lounge. I stand right there because I can get tons of action. . . . You watch for the look, that horney look like they need it. I’m gonna pounce on them any chance I get. . . . I’ll go up to a guy and say, “Hey you, I know you want some. . . . I ain’t telling you to buy nothing, just take a look at this [points to breasts]. If you want, you can have a little taste.”

Respondents also admitted that certain ecological conditions made specific locations attractive for discussing business. The majority of sex workers (n = 23) revealed that a location(s) was chosen if it offered an avenue of escape and some level or means of concealment from the police and residents. Put in de Certeau’s (1984) terms, within the city, space is produced strategically by police and community residents through enhanced surveillance and police patrols. In response to these strategies, sex workers tactically reproduce these spaces in their very usage of these spaces. For sex workers, public space serves various functions in that it not only allows easy access to customers but also allows them to quick escape routes from the police and community residents. Sex workers who used public locations often stood inside doorways of busi-nesses or behind gates as one tactic to avoid police. If police officers attempted to arrest them or talk to them, locked gates of doorways sometimes delayed the officers long enough to run away. As Rosario explained:

Burger King on Lyell has several doorways. It’s easy to just stand in the front of there and pretend like you waiting for the bus or something. Once I see the cops, I just go inside and go out one of the two side exits.

Steakknife, who often worked at night, explained how she selected locations that gave her access to customers but attempted to avoid attention from police or others not seeking her services:

Steakknife: You gotta learn real quick the rules of the game. The only rule for pickups is to stand on a corner with a traffic light but not those big bright street lights.

Researcher: Why do you say the corner needs a traffic light but not bright lights?

Steakknife: The traffic lights make the tricks stop. Now you can just play it off like you going to their car to get directions or you’re giving out directions. This don’t raise no suspicions from the heat [police] and other folks. But even if there’s




some attention, people can’t see your ass at night under no traffic light. It’s too damn hard to see you because the traf-fic lights don’t give off too much light.

In addition to avenues of escape from the police, sex workers also highlighted the role of specific locations that minimized chances of confrontations with neighborhood residents. Narcissus explained why he chose his location for what he called “negotiations”:

Monroe is the only place I can work without getting harassed by the people living there. I use to be up on Lyell but men don’t usually work out there. The residents have fits when men are out there but the women ain’t treated as bad.

Another ecological advantage often mentioned by non-sex workers (particu-larly the police officers interviewed) was the importance of traffic layout and patterns. Sex workers also mentioned that they frequently monitored car and pedestrian traffic and selected locations that were heavily traveled in order to “advertise” their services. The majority (n = 29) cited high traffic as the rea-son why they choose their location(s). Summarizing the importance of traffic patterns for sex workers’ activities, Christina noted, “You sell yourself in a traffic pit.” She described a traffic pit as facilitating easy access in and out in order to avoid detection:

Where there is a lot of people and car traffic is where you pick. But the pit has to let you and tricks get in and out real fast. There has to be ways to book [escape] if you see cops. The more routes to get in and out the better. That’s a traffic pit. You go where you know the tricks is. But the tricks ain’t gonna go places where they feel like they can’t book [run away].

Distinguishing the importance of traffic patterns for street sex work and other forms of commercialized sex, a police officer with more than twenty years of law enforcement experience stated, “There has to be enough pedestrian or vehicle traffic to be able to advertise, which is much different than in your escort services or massage parlors.” A former police officer emphasized the importance of traffic flow to facilitate an established stroll:

Lyell Avenue is a major thoroughfare with a lot a traffic . . . [v]ehicle and pedestrian. It’s not too remote. And there are not a lot of residential houses on Lyell itself. . . . This makes Lyell a prime spot. Johns [customers] can access it quickly and easily, and they can get out easily too.

Unlike sex workers’ tactics for the agreement, which are aimed at minimizing harm from customers, soliciting customers, and concealing or camouflaging




their purpose for being in an area, for the sexual act, their tactics are directed at concealing the sexual act itself. Of the twenty-nine sex workers who selected outdoor locations for the sexual act, the majority (n = 27) highlighted ecological factors as an important consideration influencing place selection. Accordingly, sex workers noted that they depended on specific features of the environment where they or their customers chose to complete the sex act to conceal it. Accordingly, the ability to become invisible becomes a defining aspect of public sex space. These features included dim lighting and aban-doned or isolated locations that provided at least a measure of privacy and concealed the sexual acts from the police or passersby. The following com-ments were representative of sex workers’ discussions of the ecological fac-tors of place that made it possible to carry out the sexual act.

My spots for sex have to be hidden from public view. It’s just common sense. Places like stairways or alleys allow me and my tricks to avoid being seen because you don’t want people to recognize what you’re doin’. (Vy, Asian sex worker of sixteen years)

I’m pretty cautious about where I do the humpty dance [sex] with my clients. Prime areas are parking lots because you can hide in a car or on the side of a car or [railroad] tracks because they are hidden and no one really knows what’s up. (Kinky, white female sex worker of two years)

In addition to concealing their acts from the police and/or passersby, some sex workers, especially women with children, expressed a strong desire to conceal their work from their children. The main tactic for concealment was to use locations that were away from their own residence in order to safe-guard their children. For example, Charlotte, a mother of two minor children, discussed how she worked away from her own residence as a means of safe-guarding her children:

I’m usually working on the streets, but sometimes on the weekend, I’ll let a date [regular customer] come on by cuz my kids will be over my mom’s house. . . . I don’t want none of them dates around my kids.

Sense of Safety and Security

Most sex workers perceived the threat of violence from potential customers and other sex workers as a nearly constant occupational risk. Here, violence has varying consequences which results in them not using certain spaces (e.g., reserving indoor spaces only for established clients), and to some extent their exclusion from certain spaces as a result of competition over spaces among the sex workers themselves. My findings are contrary to previous research that




has highlighted the shift of street work from public spaces to private indoor spaces in light of pressure from the police and sex workers’ concern for safety (Bernstein 2007; Thukral, Ditmore, and Murphy 2005). Rather, as described more fully below, findings reveal that street sex workers, particularly women, often avoid indoor, private spaces with clients because it renders them vulner-able to becoming victims by clients. As such, public spaces for sex workers are optimal if these spaces allow them to escape violence, yet are private enough to avoid detection from community residents and the police.

Analysis of interview data also show that sex workers said they choose/use indoor locations less frequently than outdoor locations for the sexual act. For workers who used indoor locations, tactics sometimes involved settling for locations that were convenient for customers. This may have been because indoor locations most often were used by sex workers who had an established relationship with the client.

All of the men sex workers and one woman sex worker performed sexual acts at indoor locations with clients whom she/he did not know. Unlike men sex workers, or sex workers with drug addictions, most women sex workers were more selective of customers and perceived risks of violence as greatest when working indoors.

Given the need to attract customers and conclude the agreement before the sexual act occurs, hotels are seldom venues for sex workers during the phase of the transaction that involves acquiring a customer. However, sex workers also said that they seldom used hotels to consummate the deal. In my study, sex workers who used hotels did so in a location that was reserved almost exclusively for dates (regular customers) rather than new or nonestablished clientele in order to minimize violence.

One area, Lyell Avenue, contained two motels, both of which were used by sex workers and their regular customers. Both offered hourly rates. Sex workers stated that most employees of the hotels would require “a kick back” (usually around $5) to use the hotel for street sex work. The first hotel was $20 for two hours, although the price was $18 once the room key was returned. The second hotel was slightly more expensive at $22 for two hours and did not offer reductions once the key was returned. Clients most often paid the expense of the hotel.

Similar to hotels, the residences of customers and the residences of sex workers were typically reserved for sex acts with regular clients. Only one sex worker said that on occasion, she would use the residence of a former sex worker with both new and established clientele to conduct her business for a share of the profits. For most of the sex workers who used a personal resi-dence, the choice of either their own residence or the client’s residence was prompted by the clients’ preferences. Sarah’s comment was typical:




I don’t go to no house with a trick [a stranger]. That’s just askin’ for trouble. The dates [regular customers] are different. You know them and don’t worry about them trying to rob you or rape you.

While attracting customers in places that support the tactics sex workers need to use for arranging negotiations are initial concerns associated with location choice, interviews also showed that they avoided other places to try to avoid violence. The majority (n = 23) of the sex workers interviewed cited the importance of safety in an area and often took steps associated with chosen places to conduct business that helped them avoid potentially violent encoun-ters. Moreover, all of the sex workers carried weapons, most often switch-blades. Two sex workers claimed to have carried guns. With regard to establishing the agreement with potential customers, sex workers reported that they tried to stay away from areas that were abandoned, had inadequate lighting, or were isolated from the public. Describing why she selected only well-lit street locations for the agreement, Kinky described:

You see Jefferson and Jay are bad places to work. When I pick my spot there has to be enough lights out there so I can see what kind of person I’m getting with. I can just look at them and say “oh hell no” if he’s acting weird or looking too nervous. If he’s not kosher or high or something then I can just get the hell away from him.

Lizette and Toni had similar rationales for their choices of location, highlight-ing the importance of having the ability to escape from customers if they needed to. Lizette, for instance, said she preferred working at intersections, rather than in cars and hotels, because specific intersections allowed for the opportunity to “high tail ass” if it appeared the customer was violent. Zelda, a heroin and PCP addict, was propelled to change her location from drug houses to the street after being robbed by a date. In what she described as her “last conversation about sex” in a drug house, Zelda stated:

Me and this guy were talking about how much money he was gonna give me for a blow job. I told him ten dollars. He gave me the money and we was heading to the back room. That’s when he pushed me to the floor and went through my bra. The son a bitch stole all my money and drugs. . . . After that, I moved to Lyell since tricks won’t usually do this shit when all other people is around.

Most sex workers avoided areas that failed to offer some level of protection and/or concealment. However, for some sex workers, cars and/or indoor loca-tions were the preferred locations for the agreement. These locations were used less frequently than public locations by sex workers in my study out of fear of violence with no means of escape from customers.




When discussions occurred in the vehicles of customers, most sex workers reported that negotiations regarding the sexual act(s) and method of payment occurred with the sex worker remaining on the street, or that the car was driven and parked either on a side street, or a parking lot that was located within a block or two from the sex worker’s original location. These tactics minimized their travel time, and allowed them to remain in locations that were familiar. Sex workers who used parking lots typically were required to pay a “user’s fee” (i.e., usually five to ten dollars) to the lot attendant per transaction. An enclosed parking lot with an attendant offered greater protec-tion for sex workers than a street because it allowed for concealment from the police and passersby. One sex worker also stated that the presence of an attendant would minimize customer violence since customers would be more reluctant to harm a sex worker with another person present.

Sex workers who used cars uniformly noted that, from their perspective, cars were preferred because they were less conspicuous than on-the-street discussions. Nicole notes that conducting negotiations in a vehicle allowed her to easily move her activities from one location to another in the event of police presence.

More of us [sex workers] is talking business in cars. If you just standing on the streets, dates [customers] usually think you a cop or something and won’t approach you.

The majority of discussions that occurred in cars took place in the vehicles of customers, rather than those of the sex workers. Sex workers, however, rarely entered a vehicle with more than one occupant. For sex workers who discussed negotiating agreements in cars, the conversations were often limited to the price (or method of payment) and act(s) to be performed. These discussions typically lasted less than two minutes, since conducting the agreement with speed gave another opportunity to help conceal the activities from others.

In some regards, location preferences were gendered, particularly insofar as using cars for a place to reach the agreement was concerned. All of the men sex workers but only one woman sex worker discussed the agreement in their own cars. Consistent with other sex workers whose technique involved reach-ing the agreement in cars, Papa, a male sex worker of twenty-one years, explained that doing it that way ensured control over the transaction, conceal-ment, and a level of safety in his own vehicle that was not present when customers’ cars were used:

It’s a big risk to talk to tricks on the street because someone could always be watching. . . . Why talk business in my car? Well I think they’re [customers] more comfortable . . . relaxed because we don’t have to have rush. . . . This lets me




control the situation, not the other way around. It’s pretty safe for me in cars because I don’t have to worry if someone’s gonna drive off somewhere fucked up or have a bunch of people in the back seat ready to jump me or rob me.

Despite the attractive feature of concealment, the use of vehicles (as well as other indoor locations) heightens the risk of violence against women sex workers. Explaining why her own vehicle was not an attractive place to con-duct this aspect of her activities, Michelle stated, “Using a car is bad for busi-ness because tricks can’t find you too easy if you in a car.”

While women sex workers often reserved indoor private locations for established customers in order to maintain their sense of security, men sex workers, in contrast, did not appear to have the same level of concern for their safety.4 All of the men reported that they used an indoor location at least once to discuss business. A notable exception in the usual practice of women sex workers avoiding indoor locations for the agreement was Toni. For Toni, the use of both hotels and residences were described as “attractive” because both reduced travel time to and from the location and allowed her to maximize her time with numerous clients. This method also allowed her to remain in a loca-tion that was familiar to her. Describing why she sometimes preferred hotels and residences over public locations to discuss business with nonestablished customers, Toni stated:

I only sometimes be out on the street talking to tricks. Usually when you just talking out there, tricks be nervous and can’t focus on you. They be trying to talk a hole in your head saying “Let’s talk here” or “Come to the car.” Uhh uhh. When I know they serious about getting some [sex], then I say stuff like “Well if you serious we can talk in private.” That usually always hooks ’em in. Then I say something like, “Look the XXX Motel is right up the street, let’s just walk. Now we won’t have to worry about anybody interrupting us.” This way I know where I am, get my money, get the fuck out quick and start again.

Similar to the agreement, for the sexual act, the geographic location of the commercial sex act is a crucial consideration in the tactics that sex workers create and implement to keep themselves safe. The tactics employed, how-ever, often required women sex workers (who appeared to be more concerned about the potential for violence than men) to negotiate their choice of loca-tions with clients. Women sex workers often selected locations within a neighborhood that they knew. This familiarity gave them a better sense of security than working in areas that were unknown. Sex workers interviewed overwhelmingly noted (n = 25) that their choice in location for the sexual act was to minimize violence and maximize safety.




One of the most important strategies used by most of the female sex work-ers was to control the environment in order to maintain a level of safety and to ensure that sexual transactions occurred without violence. Sex workers did not chaotically “do business” without concern for their safety. Violence from customers has varying consequences for where sex workers conduct their business. For those sex workers who performed sexual acts outdoors, slightly more than two-thirds (n = 21) predetermined the location. In most cases, the predetermined location was positioned on or near the location where the ini-tial contact had been made.

Bernice insisted that her customers drive to a predetermined location for the service, which often was located on a side street of a residential neighbor-hood. When asked why she chose the specific location (a side street off Lyell Avenue) Bernice responded, “I’ve been stranded out in east bumfuck not knowin’ where the hell I was and had to walk home after only scorin’ a forty-dollar trick . . . That’s why I like the side streets. I need to be near civilization. I mean I pick the spots that we go.”

Bernice also explained how violence prompted her to change her working practices to reduce the risk of violence:

I don’t do vans and I don’t do trucks. I don’t get into cars with more than one guy. Shit you got to check that there ain’t some other guy hidin’ in there waiting to fuck you up or bully [gang rape] you. Yeah, I use to get into a lot of trouble not checkin’ that shit out. . . . I had my ass stabbed, I been raped a couple a times and had some guy break my ribs when he told me I couldn’t fuck worth shit. I’ve been in the hospital enough times.

If sex workers are familiar with the physical layout of the area, they have more chance of escaping and calling for help if they need it. A conversation with Johanna, a black female sex worker of four years, illustrates the means by which she chooses and negotiates specific locations in an attempt to mini-mize violence from customers:

Researcher: So then, what specifically makes Lyell and Dewey Park attractive for you?

Johanna: I know them places. I always go places that is familiar to me—that it’s safe. I don’t just go places where my men wanna go.

Researcher: What do you mean you don’t go places where the men want to go?

Johanna: You got some serious fucked up people out here. I means I might do my business in the car . . . I just ain’t going to




bring some man I just then met over to a crib because you don’t know what these guys might do to ya’ if they get you alone in a locked house or somethin’. Shit, if you start screamin’, if you in [an] apartment ain’t no one going to do nothin’ for you. At least if yous in a car, you can jump the fuck out if it don’t seem right. People be more willin’ to help if you knock on their door than if you just hear screamin’.

Although the majority of sex workers performed the sexual act(s) in public locations (but protected from public view), some sex workers preferred indoor locations (i.e., drug houses, residences) because such locations seemed to attract less attention from passersby and the police and were less conspicu-ous than public locations. While addicted sex workers often worked in indoor locations where drugs were available, for sex workers who were not addicted to drugs, indoor locations often were limited to regular customers. For the few sex workers who did engage in the sexual act in a private residence, a list of normative rules often applied to the sex act in the setting and accompanied the transaction. As Desiree explained:

There’s not a lot of options of places to go that are outside because streets are usually too crowded. . . . Yeah sometimes I do handjobs or bjs [oral sex] right out in the open but that’s cuz those are quick jobs, usually about a minute or two and it’s done. But it’s too much to be out in public because anybody can catch you and you’ll get arrested . . . That’s why I usually go to [Chelsea’s] [drug dealing girlfriend] house and give her five or ten dollars for using of the house. But I don’t just take anyone there. There can’t be more than one guy and nothing can happen after 11 p.m.

Although she explained that she chose to work out of a residence, Desiree was adamant about not working from her own residence. As she explains:

My home is my sanctuary. It’s where I relax, have fun, it’s my down time. Anybody who uses their place is a stupid ass motherfucka. That’s why only a few knuckleheads do that shit. . . . You have to keep business and home separate otherwise you be bringing a bunch of drama to your crib [residence].

Apart from avoiding areas that failed to offer some level of protection against violent customers, some sex workers also avoided certain places in their attempts to avoid particular types of customers—particularly nonwhite men. Johanna, a black sex worker of four years, explained why she avoided areas that “had a reputation of having a lot of black tricks [customers].”




Johanna: Jefferson is avoided at all costs. They only have black cus-tomers there. Man, those is the worst clients to have. Because they are some cheap bastards. It just ain’t worth the bullshit dealing with them.

Researcher: Why do you say black clients are the worst clients to have?Johanna: Because they are some cheap bastards. Ya know they

always trying to argue about prices and shit like that. They’ll try to run some shit like, “So and so only charged me fifteen dollars” or “I got a bj [blowjob] and a straight fuck [vaginal sex] for what you’re charging.” Shit like that. They is always arguing. It just ain’t worth the bullshit deal-ing with them.

Vy, an Asian sex worker, also avoided particular areas, such as Plymouth Avenue and Jay Street and exclusively “dated older white men” whom she claimed were preferred as they would “come the quickest and pay the most.” Limiting herself to Lyell Avenue and Mt. Read Boulevard in order to “stay away from those (nonwhite) kind of customers,” Vy described why white men were the only clients she dealt with.

A lot of the girls out here say tricks [customers] are all the same and just fuck anything. Not me. Black men and those Puerto Ricans, even Asians, don’t know how to respect you. They are always trying that tough macho shit treating me like some geisha girl or something. They hit on you, piss on you, it don’t matter. They don’t have no respect at all. . . .But the white ones, they treat you good. They’ll buy you a meal or talk nice to you.

These statements show that some sex workers chose certain places not only to conceal activities from police and passersby and to reduce the risk of vio-lence from customers, but also avoided certain places where the potential customer base did not meet their preferences.

Actual or perceived violence among sex workers themselves also affects the spatial practices of some sex workers and their use of and behaviors within specific spaces. Territorial boundaries for conducting business mat-tered, at least to some workers. These boundaries often resulted in stratified locations by length of service in the business, and in some cases, race. The longest-serving workers often had an unspoken “right” to first preference for locations. Additionally, some locations are stratified by race. One example of an area stratified by race is Plymouth Avenue, where the neighborhood popu-lation is primarily black. According to the outreach worker, sex workers who conducted business in the Plymouth Avenue area seldom traveled outside the




area. She characterized the area as occupied solely by black sex workers who service black clientele. Explaining the race composition of workers and cus-tomers on Plymouth, Nicole, a black sex worker of ten years, stated:

We [sex workers] pretty much deal with only our kind on Plymouth. We don’t have no “white tight and outta sight” [white customers] because ain’t no other white people up there. Ya know when white folks come there, it looks real weird because there ain’t nothing for ’em and they’ll look out of place.

Beyond differences associated with the racial composition of particular hotspots, two essential rules most sex workers followed was the notion of seniority for location selection, and a business ethic that avoided stealing other sex workers’ customers. As Moriah, an active sex worker of eighteen years, explained:

Moriah: The streets ain’t open for just anybody. It ain’t the Burger King mentality “Have it your own way.” And it ain’t no first in first spot. When you get a good spot and you’ve been out on it for years, you don’t let nobody in your action.

Researcher: What makes a spot good?Moriah: It needs to be close to an alley or parking lot. Something

that’s not too far. A alley is better through because you can be blocked off . . . ummm kind of hidden when you talking ‘bout the acts or the payment, whatever.

Researcher: What happens if another sex worker comes to your spot?Moriah: It depends. I know sometimes I will just ask them to get the

fuck out. But I have kicked the shit out of some mother fuckas that don’t listen.

Researcher: Is it common for sex workers to have a place to themselves?

Moriah: Sort of. Everybody knows that you can’t just step up in somebody’s space when you working there. Damn, if there’s a trick there and the trick chooses the other mother fucka then you’re out of dough. That shit ain’t right.

Researcher: Do sex workers steal each other’s tricks?Moriah: Sometimes. But that’s nasty shit. [Paulette] [another sex

worker] got fucked up when she did that shit. Right there on Dewey. I mean she got shot right in her ass. After that mother fucka was shot, we all heard about that shit and mother fuckas started mindin’ their shit.




As seen in Moriah’s commentary, sex workers’ comments illustrate the norms many embraced that established “ownership” of a place and the strategies some used to protect their locations. Steakknife stabbed a competitor in the face after she learned that another sex worker had occupied her space when Steakknife was with a client. Conchetta, a Latina sex worker of seventeen years, also employed violence in her attempt to rid her corner of competitors.

One day I told ’em, “You better get the fuck outta here cuz you trying to steal my tricks. You got a choice, you get the fuck off this corner, or I’m gonna kill your nigga asses.” And those bitches got the fuck out. Everybody knows when I talks, you listen, because I’m looney and will fuck you up.

Similarly, Zelda, an active sex worker of sixteen years, noted the importance of territory for sex workers.

Lyell isn’t a neighborhood where me or you can just step in and start working. You got to bide your time, you know wait your turn, or have someone vouch for you to be here. This is different than my old stompin’ grounds in [another city]. See there, you can just pick a corner of [a] street and start working and you won’t get hassle from the other folks.

While “more experienced” sex workers noted the importance of seniority in location selection, sex workers with little time in challenged whether senior workers were “entitled” to claim a location as their own. They saw the role of seniority as relatively unimportant. For younger sex workers, there was almost a tacit understanding that everyone had the right to occupy any place in order to make money. As Shaneequa, a sex worker of two years, noted:

There is an understanding that we all gots to get ours [make money]. I ain’t trying to take your tricks [customers], you ain’t trying to take mine. There’s about twenty of us there. And for twenty of us, there’s about two hundred tricks to be made. I don’t care about sharing my space as long as no one steals my tricks.

These statements reveal that some sex workers compete with each other for space and often repel sex workers who invade their locations, sometimes with threats, sometimes with actual violence. While there were norms associ-ated with claims on location based on seniority for sex workers who had been in the business longer, newer sex workers challenged the right to lay claim on a particular place as they tried to break into the business and find places where they, too, could work.




Other location-related issues besides seniority arose among sex workers. For example, Leggs described why sex workers who used drugs were bad for business, which meant undertaking steps to keep her area “clean of the junky infestation”:

Leggs: . . . Like I said, most of us are out here to make money. Those junkies ruin it for everybody. They don’t charge nothin’. On Plymouth [Avenue] they be fucking those guys for a root beer or damn twinkies [laughing] because they is too high to eat. . . . They all have AIDS, but won’t ever use condoms. They be loud and always bringin’ attention to themselves. Cops always be up there because they are too crazy. Nah, you can’t get caught up with the junkies.

Researcher: So what happens when junkies invade your space?Leggs: They always trying that. One time, about four months ago,

the two toothless bitches, [Peaches] and [Joy] [crack addicted sex workers], was on Lyell and Murray. They knew I was there, but they didn’t care. I told them to leave and starting cussin’ at me. I left because they always carry-ing a piece [gun] or something. The next day they was there again. This time my black ass was ready. I had me and some of the fellas [male gang members in which one was Leggs’s brother]. They was shakin. I told them to get the fuck out and had my own piece this time. They ain’t been seen since.

Tina, a sex worker who used crack and herion, understood that her counter-part workers often moved to rid their locations of sex workers who did not use drugs. As she remarked:

The ones who are clean don’t like us. Sometimes they say get off the street because you fuckin’ up business here. Sometimes they throw shit at you, spit on you, and sometimes beat your ass.

Bernice, reflecting on tactics she used to avoid other sex workers who used crack, said:

I do everythin’ I can to keep away from them places where those “crack hos” be. . . . There use to be that old factory warehouse . . . right there on Lyell. When I started out here, I would do my business in there, but thens all the crack hos was comin’ in. They start threatenin’ you and shit sayin’ messed up lies like they were there first and be tryin’ show you a knife or somethin’ or cussin’ at you so you will leave.




Statements from sex workers reveal that they would purposely avoid particu-lar locations in an effort to reduce the risk of violence perpetrated by other sex workers. Sex workers that did not use drugs were especially cautious about working with drug-using sex workers because they viewed sex workers that used drugs as having violent reputations and attracting unwanted attention.

Marie and Sarah had similar rationales for their choices of avoiding cer-tain locations, highlighting the importance of minimizing the potential for violence from other sex workers.

It’s not safe to work with druggies or kids. Those druggies, you never know what they’ll do. Maybe they’ll cut you, even shoot you. They’re so unpredictable. (Marie, Latina sex worker of eleven years)

When I was high, it didn’t matter what I did or who I was with. It was only about making money to get high and stay in my zone. . . . When I got clean, I saw how crazed I was and now those be girls all highed up are doing the same thing and acting all out of their mind. I can only deal with them girls when we go get a drink or go party. But when I’m working? Nah, I can’t be around them because they always trying to fight you, you know. They always getting the police to come. (Sarah, white female sex worker of four years)

Managing Police and Community Residents

The actions undertaken by the police and community residents in response to street prostitution illustrate many of the features that de Certeau (1984) asso-ciates with a “mode of administration.” In the city, while there is no written policy on street prostitution, the community politics of direct action against prostitution over the past decade have determined official responses. Police officers interviewed consistently maintained the main tactic followed by the police is to disperse prostitutes. Rarely do police “sweep” them off the streets by placing them under arrest. Moreover, officers often dropped or reduced charges in exchange for information relating to other crimes.

Interview data from police officers indicated not all neighborhoods are susceptible to street sex work. Officers noted that such neighborhoods where street sex work occurred were distinguishable from other areas in that neigh-borhoods with it frequently were home to businesses that profit and some-times even support street sex work, such as bars, strip clubs, fast-food restaurants (usually those open twenty-four hours), motels, and parking facil-ities. These characteristics were confirmed by interviews with sex workers. Officer interviews also explained that street sex work expanded from one location when sex workers moved from an active “hot spot” to another nearby location (around the block or one street over) either as a result of police pres-sure on sex workers’ customers or competition with other sex workers.




One former officer said that prior to 2009, competing demands and lack of resources made it virtually impossible for police to focus on street prostitution.

Politics have dictated how we can respond to street prostitution, at least for the last ten years or so. There used to be some john detail, where we would target johns and sometimes arrest them, but most often we would arrest the prostitutes. But now we are going after the johns much more. But overall, since policies like Cease Fire and Zero Tolerance, most of the resources aren’t going to be directed to prostitution, or even narcs [narcotics]. Rather the barometer for importance at least in regard to crime in [the city] is directed to homicide.

Random crackdowns on street sex work suggest that sex workers do not work under perpetual fear of being arrested and do not permanently move away from their usual work locations because of law enforcement activities. One police officer stated that one tactic used by sex workers is to simply cross into adjacent precincts, in order to avoid arrest.

Following de Certeau (1984, 96), responding to strategies designed to control street prostitution in the city by the police, through tactics of resis-tance (“tricky and stubborn procedures that elude discipline”), sex workers shape spaces to their own ends. To this end, sex workers did not appear concerned about the effect of police presence on their ability to conduct business in particular locations. Sex workers noted that they often engaged in avoidance techniques used to elude police detection. Abandoning a location momentarily while police were present was a tactic used by the majority (n = 24) of sex workers. In addition to avoidance techniques, another strategy used by sex workers to evade the police was speed, limit-ing the initial conversations with potential customers to only a minute or two.

Observations in the street supported the notion that enforcement did not seem to exert a very permanent effect on where sex workers carried out their activities. During a field visit on Lyell Avenue, while I was engaging in an informal conversation with a sex worker, Vanessa, two police cars were located two blocks down from the corner on which we stood while another police car passed by the corner where we were located. In response to the presence of the police, Vanessa appeared unfazed and did not leave the scene or change locations. Vanessa explained that even though she recognized the risk of arrest, it did not alter her behavior.

Cops are not gonna stop me from working the streets. I need to make money. . . . Even if I get arrested, I know I’ll be back out in a day or two. The jails can’t keep us locked up because there ain’t no room in there for us.




Sex workers in the study also noted that the highly publicized recent efforts on Lyell Avenue to target johns rather than sex workers made the risk of arrest for sex workers themselves virtually nil. As Johanna, a black sex worker of four years, stated:

The police still arrest us but we ain’t the real focus for them anymore. It’s the johns that they be after now, but that ain’t good for business because even though tricks [customers] is still coming, they a lot more cautious now and particular about who they get ’cuz they don’t want to get busted.

Similar to strategies to regulate prostitution enacted by the police, surveil-lance practices enacted by the community residents may be seen as a mode of administration (de Certeau 1984). Similar to tactics used by sex workers to resist police, sex workers also employ “tactics of resistance” (Hubbard and Sanders 2003) in response to community residents when negotiating and administering space. Sex workers noted that “Neighborhood Watch” signs failed to dissuade them, since many of them knew the neighborhoods and were not deterred because they often did not view residents as a threat. Because my sample of sex workers was drawn from those who were seek-ing services, it stands to reason that they might have different characteris-tics from those not seeking help. Despite strong opposition against street sex work, particularly on Lyell Avenue, including threats and assaults, sex workers were not deterred, but rather remained in their locations, some-times employing the tactics of threats of violence or simply ignoring residents.

One day an old white guy came out his house waving a fucking shotgun at me. . . . He was yelling some shit because he saw me drop a condom in front his house, some shit like that. I pulled out my .22 [gun] and told him “You can shoot me, but I will get one off and shoot your fucking balls off.” His white ass ran back in the house like a little pussy. (Jennipher, white male sex worker of twenty-three years)

I have had bottles, garbage, and all kinds of shit thrown at me by people on the Lyell, but it won’t make me leave because I understand why they don’t want me on their streets. . . . But I don’t care because . . . I mean the streets is my life and I’m just trying to make a livin’. (Rosari, Latina female sex worker of ten years)

The porch monkeys [people who stay on their porches] and “serve as a lookout for the neighborhood” yell, curse, scream whatever to get out the neighborhood. You just get use [to] that shit after a while and ignore it. (Sheenequah, black female sex worker of two years)




Discussion and Conclusion

Currently, existing literatures on the sociology of sex work and sociology of sex and place do little to inform us on why and how and why sex workers chose to work on the streets that they do. Engaging with de Certeau’s (1984) notions of strategies and tactics, this study sought to extend these literatures by highlighting the importance of place and space whereby findings revealed that sex workers often employ specific tactics to maximize profits, solicit customers, and minimize violence from customers and adopt other tactics in response to strategies employed by police and community residents to mini-mize arrest and detection.

While the location of street sex workers in particular geographic locations is often taken for granted, consistent with previous research (Sanders 2004; Hubbard and Sanders 2003; McKeganey and Barnard 1996), this study sug-gests that sex workers do not simply succumb to strategies employed by police, community residents, clients, and even other sex workers but rather rework and adapt existing spaces to their own ends.

An important finding from my study was that the tactics that influenced location selection for sex workers differed depending on the type of act inves-tigated, namely, the location for the agreement compared to the location for the sexual act itself. This finding is not consistent with other research find-ings, which typically have noted the importance of a single place in which sex workers are located (Cohen 1980; Hubbard and Sanders 2003; Sanders 2004). For the agreement, consistent with previous research, findings showed that preference was given to public locations because such locations were seen by sex workers as providing easy access to clients as well as ecological conditions (including high-traffic areas and areas that provided a legitimate purpose for being in a location) that provided an avenue of escape from police and residents (Cohen 1980; Ashworth, White, and Winchester 1988). Moving beyond previous research, however, for the agreement, sex workers often reappropriate public spaces to their own ends. In fact, contrary to previous research, which has suggested a decline to street-level work and a shift to indoor prostitution in light of police enforcement and workers’ concern for safety (Bernstein 2007; Thukral, Ditmore, and Murphy 2005), street sex workers often avoid indoor, private spaces with clients because it renders them vulnerable to becoming victims by clients. In this case, sex workers’ preference for public rather than private spaces is connected to their con-scious tactics to enhance their safety from new clients, often reserving pri-vate, indoor spaces for established customers. Moreover, sex workers also reappropriate public spaces through tactics of visibility that allow them to remain visible and easily accessible for customers, while at the same time




employ tactics of purpose whereby these spaces justify their purpose in spe-cific places. Finally, the ability of sex workers to become invisible or disap-pear within spaces in order to avoid detection and/or allow for escape is an important aspect of public sex space for the agreement.

While sex workers’ tactics for the agreement are aimed at minimizing harm from customers, soliciting customers, and concealing or camouflaging their purpose for being in an area, for the sexual act, their tactics are directed at con-cealing the sexual act itself and enhancing safety, which often meant that sex workers were familiar with the area. While previous studies have highlighted the importance of sex workers’ working collaboratively in order to minimize violence from clients (McKeganey and Barnard 1996; Hubbard 1999), in the current study sex workers worked alone, noting the exceptionally competitive environment among sex workers, particularly when sex workers viewed other sex workers as encroaching on their locations, and often used violence to defend their areas. Interviews with three male sex workers suggest that there may be a difference in the reasons sex workers selected and avoid particular locations by gender. Specifically, while safety was an important factor influ-encing locations for women, it appeared that the men were much less con-cerned about violence from customers and other sex workers. In addition, some women sex workers, especially those with small children, also attempted to conceal their acts from their children, choosing locations that were away from their own residences. While these findings suggest that gender may be impor-tant in sex workers’ selectivity of places, future research with a larger sample of male sex workers is needed before conclusions regarding this can be reached.

In contrast to previous research, which generally overlooks the role that avoidance of certain places plays in the location of crime, my findings showed that many sex workers often worked out of locations simply because other places were avoided. The locations avoided most often hinged on safety con-cerns for female sex workers and included areas that failed to offer some level of protection from violent customers (i.e., inadequate lighting, isolation from the public) as well as areas that contained sex workers who used drugs. Moreover, my findings also revealed that sex workers avoided particular locations as a means to avoid particular customers, namely, those who were nonwhite.

Contrary to previous research (Bernstein 2007; Hubbard and Sanders 2003; Sanders 2004), my findings show that police enforcement and/or pres-ence had little impact on the locations of sex workers. Rather, sex workers often employed avoidance tactics by which they ignored police and/or com-munity residences, or temporarily moved from one location to another. Of course, enforcement of prostitution is constrained by limited resources to tackle street prostitution. This assumption is supported by Hubbard’s (1999)




and McKeganey and Barnard’s (1996) claims that police may ignore viola-tions of vice laws if they consider prostitution does not transgress the moral character of particular neighborhoods.

The findings also suggest that informal sanctions (i.e., community resistance) do not deter sex workers from working in specific locations, whereby sex work-ers, despite threats and violence from residents, often ignored such efforts or employed tactics of violence of their own, and remained in their location(s). However, although residents and police have recently mobilized together in an effort to combat street sex work on Lyell Avenue by targeting customers, it is unclear whether the campaigns and targeted focus have had, or will have, an impact on street sex work in this area. Future research should more explicitly examine the role of community residents for tackling street sex work.

My findings also show support for the important role that legitimate busi-nesses play in the location of street sex work. Findings reveal how street sex work is not only tolerated but supported by some business establishments. Sex workers noted how certain establishment employees (i.e., hotels and parking lots) allowed use of a facility, provided that a user fee or the equiva-lent was paid. Future research should explore how these mutually beneficial relationships form and how far these relationships extend.

Similar to all studies, this study has several limitations. First is the lack of information regarding the customers of sex workers. For a complete under-standing of the dynamics of street sex work, future research should employ qualitative research that examines the role that customers play in the location of street sex work. Second, as a result of the selective nature by which sex workers were recruited, the focus on a single city, and the small number of male sex workers interviewed, the current study is limited in that the findings are not generalizable to all sex workers. Future research should employ a larger sample of male sex workers to examine whether gender differences exist regarding the selection and avoidance of particular locations.

Despite the limitations of this study, a greater understanding of the spe-cific contexts of street sex work has been obtained. The findings reveal a complex series of interactions that tentatively specify factors that affect the circumstances under which sex workers select their locations for work. Accordingly, the findings suggest that this is an important area of investiga-tion that holds promise for both theory and practice.

Acknowledgement

I would like to acknowledge Debra Street, Robert Wagmiller, Mary Nell Trautner, Elaine Howard Ecklund, Peter St. Jean and the anonymous reviewers for their helpful comments and suggestions.




Declaration of Conflicting Interests

The author(s) declared no potential conflicts of interest with respect to the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.

Funding

The author(s) received no financial support for the research, authorship, and/or publi-cation of this article.

Notes

1. An exception was Sarah, who catered to male and female clients who often were married.

2. A prost-i-tot is vernacular for a child prostitute.3. Plumpkin involves a sex worker taking laxatives in order to defecate on a

customer.4. Although the male sex workers I interviewed did not report experiencing vio-

lence at the hands of their customers, previous research suggests that men sex workers are victimized by their clients (Valera, Sawyer, and Schiraldi 2000). It is also important to note that definitive conclusions regarding male sex workers cannot be made given the small number of male sex workers interviewed.

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Author Biography

LaVerne McQuiller Williams is the chairperson and an associate professor of crimi-nal justice at the Rochester Institute of Technology. She obtained her JD from Albany Law School, and her PhD in sociology from the University of Buffalo. Her research interests include intimate partner violence and restorative justice. Prior to joining the RIT faculty, Dr. McQuiller Williams was an assistant district attorney specializing in sexual assault and domestic violence cases.



sex in the city: why and how street workers select their

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