Hard-Copy Guide to Paying for Sex
It’s 21:02, we put our order in about half an hour ago. I doubt that they’ll keep their promise of a 30 minute delivery time but, then again, I doubt that Glasgow pimps care much for trading standards.
The girl should be here any moment, I feel sick and my photographer has cracked open the gin.
The buzzer tears through the flat, it’s on, we’ve just ordered a prostitute over the internet, with the intention of getting an interview.
I’m confident that this can only end badly, the site has already taken our money, so our goal is to stop the girl from bailing the moment she sees the two sweaty ‘journalists’ behind the door.
During a brainstorm on how to actually do this, we even considered putting out a nice spread, we have no idea what we are doing.
Our plan is simple, get her in the flat, be cool, then ask politely if an interview is possible. I’ve decided not to shake hands.
So, I shake her hand and I’m yet to make eye contact but I can tell she’s unimpressed, very polite though. I doubt there is a great need on her part to put up much of a charade, the site was more concerned with a 30 minute delivery than any quality assurance. She is here for a simple, basic purpose and, let’s be honest, the kind of human that requires this in a thirty-minute time frame is probably not concerned with the niceties of courtship.
We guide Renata through to the living room, I can only imagine what goes through the head of a sex worker as they enter stranger’s house.
Before I can ask the question, she bursts into character and begins to ask us “who’s the lucky boy?”. ‘We’re journalists… I was wondering if we could just ask you a few questions?’ She swaps her smile for raised hands, says no, and makes for the door. We jump out our seats and start asking for crumbs, but this is about to get violent, so we let her slip through the door, and we’re left £80 down.
I thought there would be a chance of getting some answers out of her, but maybe the experience would have been too real for Renata (or maybe she’s been warned off answering questions by her ever-so-understanding pimp)
Anyways, I’m now concerned that her delivery driver is, just this minute, asking her why she is back so early and whether or not he’s got a recorded delivery of violence waiting for her.
With no answers from the horse’s mouth (no offence Renata) we must, instead, summarise what we’ve found on the Internet. A quick Google-ing (no that’s not a euphemism) reveals a vast industry, with thousands of sites offering almost anything your mind-like-a-sewer can think of.
The average Glaswegian site is offering a girl for a 30 minute session for a minimum of £80, they pride themselves on a short delivery time, which makes me wonder if there is a warehouse, somewhere in the centre of Glasgow, jam-packed with some of eastern Europe’s luckiest women, with a waiting room full of delivery boys in their gimp suits.
But what is the actual demand for such a service in Glasgow? We asked Google for a run down. In an average month Google records about 40,500 local searches for terms like Glasgow escorts – no stats were available for what percentage of these searches are by the same users – but we can only presume that there are thousands of individuals searching this on a monthly basis.
The volume of sites also backs up the assumption that this is a healthy industry. There are literally hundreds of sites, following a generic formula, with the quirkier ones advertising escorts on tour or women who provide a girlfriend experience. The sheer audacity of some of the firms is pretty sickening; an Anniesland-based firm is advertising under the slogan ‘Teens for rent’. Even more disturbing, is another firm we found that was attempting to recruit schoolgirls under the banner ‘Schoolies wanted with real uniform, cash waiting’. Oh and if your interested you’re to get in touch with Dave.
It’s not only wholly depressing to see websites actively trying to recruit schoolgirls as prostitutes, it’s also pretty offensive to see how these women and their services have been standardised and dehumanised by the internet. Most of the sites we’ve seen have review portions, where the escorts are actually given marks and small, written reviews. You can almost taste the perversion and degradation in the comments that have been left. It does get you thinking though; there must be a hell-of-a-lot of demand for this type of thing in Glasgow for there to be such healthy supply.