An Arrest I Escaped

Here is one of the posts that garnered a lot of interest. I told the story of how a street sex worker escaped arrest, but only just barely. In Honolulu, 20 or so years ago, the police would drive around the area downtown where the women and men dressed as women offered their time in exchange for money or drugs or a place ot shower. It was not always about sex, but that was an option. The way the transaction worked was a car would slow for a woman and park a few feet ahead of her on Kukui Street. The woman would go up to the car and if the window rolled down as she approached she could be sure she was invited to get into the vehicle. She would ask for a ride and the driver would agree. The big clue that the driver was actually a cop was the driver would automatically start talking deal. “how much?” or “If I want x, do I have to pay y?” Anything to get the woman to say yes, I will exchange a specific sex act for a certain amount of money (though technically he did not have to offer money, because a sex act in exchange for anything was illegal.) If the woman agreed the driver would slow to a stop at a nearby location, usually around Vineyard, and there’d be a knock on the window. The officer would be in uniform and he would have on a black ski mask. That’s a frightening sight, let me tell you. “Get out of the car ma’am. You’re being arrested for solicitation,” he would politely say. I have heard they are not always polite. I have been told that once a woman was grabbed out of the car by two female officers in ski masks who manhandled her into a van. The way things go down probably has to do with the personalities of the people involved, their intentions, if they perceive resistance, that sort of thing. This is the story of how a woman avoided going to cell block for the night, through sheer luck. Tags: Honolulu, arrest, law enforcement

Hawaii Street Life-a Trusted Insider Tells All

I could have been arrested but I wasn’t because I followed the advice of the veteran working girl who spent 40 minutes with me telling me how to be careful.

I was Working As a Streetwalker

It was somewhere around 2003. When I was using the days ran together until months and a couple of years went buy without me really noticing. Truth be told, I liked the formlessness of my days after the regimented life of school and work I had lived all of my childhood and in the very beginning of my adulthood. I felt free, like I had nowhere to be, nothing to do, but the truth is I was a slave to the drug that kept me on a hamster wheel while my experience was that of freedom. I was finding tricks-taking money for sexual favors-copping dope-finding another addict with a hole in the wall–getting high–running…

View original post 1,054 more words

%d bloggers like this: