The next piece in our series of writing by sex workers are two poems by Grey. These poems explore the interactions between sex workers and the police, thinking about who and what really keeps us safe.
cuppa for a copper / the police are not your enemy
on on of my travels
i had a visit from a cop
in a country
where they have the nordic model
aka the swedish model
aka client criminalisation
aka equality model
aka the end demand model
whatever you wanna call it
in a country
where i knew my rights
where selling sex is not illegal
yet the cop came
and pretended to be a client
he was alone
why is he alone in my flat
he asked if i was alone
he looked at me
from head to toe
and said where are you from
where are you from from
are you being trafficked
i know you are from africa
your profile says so
your job is dangerous you know
i call myself
a prostitute
an escort
sometimes
he called me
a prostitute
an escort
or whatever you want to call yourself he said
and i didn’t like that
he said he saw
my profile
my photos
i was disgusted
to think
that he saw me
naked
when he looked at me
from head to toe again
was it what he was seeing then
my body
naked
maybe he wants to fuck me
why is he alone in this flat with me
maybe i should proposition him
because after all
a client is a client
and i still need to pay rent
and he is alone
here
with me
why
he drank some tea
i made him some fucking tea
why
maybe he’s gonna be nicer i thought
he said
your job is dangerous you know
people like you get killed everyday
thank you i said
as if it was news to me
he said the police is not your enemy
he said the police is here to keep you safe
he said his colleagues downstairs arrested my client
how is that meant to make me safer i said
and he did not like that
wait
if his colleagues are downstairs
then why is he alone with me
he is hot
maybe i could fuck him
then he would leave me alone
and i would make the money he is taking away from me by being here
wasting my time
drinking his fucking tea
he listed all the recent assaults that had happened on sex workers recently
in that country
please stop i said
he said no you need to hear this
your job is dangerous he said
the later you work the more dangerous it gets
what if someone comes in
with a knife
and rapes you
then will you call us
the police are not your enemy he said
i want you to feel safe with me
i said you being here right now
is what scares me
he said he understood
but i shouldn’t be scared
because the police are not my enemy
right
he said my client confessed
i asked who saw him come in
i said did the neighbours see you
don’t worry he said
we are very discrete
look i am wearing civilian clothes he said
while i could see his fucking bulletproof vest
he said i need to ask you some questions
i said what if i don’t answer
he said that’s fine
you don’t have to answer
because you are not a criminal
but a victim
he said is it true that the man who was here paid for sex
i thought well actually
he paid for me to jump on him
lol
i said no comment
he said is it true that he gave you xxx amount of money for sex
i said no comment
he said is it true that you are a prostitute
i said no comment
he said is it true you don’t want to answer my questions
i said no comment
when he left
he said i can feel safe now
i can work safely now
because they know where i am staying now
and he has seen my passport
so he knows my identity now
so if something happens they can come quickly
to rescue me
to save me
because i am a victim
because this was just a welfare check
i seem to love my job he said
he is wrong
i don’t love my job
i don’t hate it either
i hate him
he didn’t even finish his fucking tea
and left the cup on the table
when he left
he tried to hug me
what the fuck i thought
when he left
i was relieved
i was scared
thoughts from a cell
i was arrested recently
in this country
it had nothing to do with sex work
yet all i could think about was sex work
the police took my work phone
and i thought
what if they see
what if they know
what if they ask then what do i say
what if they tell
my mum
my dad
my sister
then what do i say
what if they see
my texts with clients
my website
my twitter
my instagram
my profiles
what if they see me
naked
the photos
the videos
that are not meant for their eyes
then how will i feel
and what will i say
what if they show
my mum
my dad
my sister
then what do i say
what if they save
the texts
the links
the videos
the photos
the numbers
the notes
then what do i do
what do i do
if they ask
if they see
my work name
my real name
my address
the places i have worked
the people i have worked with
all the men i’ve fucked
then what will happen
to them
to me
if they tell
if they see
if they ask
what does that mean
for my work
for my rent
for my future
what if this is made public
what if one of these cops
keeps my number
and then contacts me as a client
without me knowing
because we know how cops are
what if they try
to intimidate me
to use this as evidence
of my loose morals
of my depravity
what if they never ask
what if they never tell
anyone
but they know
they know
what if i don’t know that they know
and i keep wondering forever
if they know
if they will use this
against me
in the future
and when i get out
how do i explain
to my friends
to other sex workers
who put trust in me
that the police
now have it all
then what do i say
how do i
reassure them
and who
reassures me
what about
the cash
that i had on me
that i have at home
what if they go to my home
and see
the toys
the lube
the condoms the cash the costumes the lingerie more condoms more lube more cash
the sponges
and think
this is disgusting
she uses them so she can keep having sex on her period
what if they think i am disgusting
why do i care
what if they see
the stolen hotel stuff the receipts the heels the notes the notes
what if they take it all
what if they see
the posters saying blow jobs are real jobs and real jobs suck no bad whores just bad laws sex work is work what if they think
look at here she’s proud of what she does
what if they find my journal
and read my inner thoughts
and see who i am
and see the shame i sometimes have
what if they tell
my landlord
the home office
my mum
my dad
my sister
what if they see
the antidepressants
the weed
the toys
and use this to prove
that i am not well
that i am sick
that i am mentally ill
what if that’s true
i know my rights
i can be a whore
here
legally
but what if they call me
a whore