A night in Soho

Jessica promised amazing girls for £5 and private dancers for £10. It sounded like the bargain of the night.

Her beauty made Soho look like paradise and lured us in.

She turned out to be the hook, and we were the perfect fish. 

Market for debauchery

We were looking for a story.

And Jessica was not the first to offer us forbidden “delights” that night. ‘Exotic’ girls (read from any ethnic background), marijuana, hashish and cocaine were all on offer. All we had to do was ask.

“Looking for girls? I have some just around the corner. They are clean, they don’t do the streets.” We heard these words over and over again.

We wanted to talk to a girl, but talk’s cheap and wasn’t on sale that night. What was being sold, however, was a show for £30, or “£35 for a blow job, £40 if you want positions.”

Open-minded…and unpredictable 

So there we were, negotiating, terrified but intrigued by the temptation pretty, blonde Jessica offered.

Can we talk to a girl while she is dancing for us? “Yes,” she answered. Is it only £10? “Yes.” Can we ask you to dance for us? “Yes.” 

Until this point, our evening had been very ordinary. Earlier, we had met up with Sergio and Arturo, who frequent Soho’s gay bars and clubs. 

“Soho’s great! Specially because it’s not just a gay zone. Many straight people come here, especially girls who feel safe in gay bars,” Sergio said.

Ironically, a couple of Spanish tourists we spoke to later couldn’t get out of the place fast enough, once they realised they were in a gay bar. 

Beware of clip joints 

Getting back to Jessica and her promise of giving us a good time, we paid her £5 and were soon sitting in a dark little room. Another blonde kept us company while a beautiful brunette served us two glasses of rather tasteless beer. 

Then we asked Jessica to deliver on her promise of a private dance. And that’s when things got ugly.

The blonde's smile vanished and she demanded £35 more despite the bargain we had struck. She also asked for £200 for “further services”. 

Our refusal to pay more money translated into a trip back to the reception where a grumpy Madame demanded that we pull out some more money and search our pockets and wallets, while a huge bouncer breathed down our necks.

We were lucky to get away only £20 poorer.

Our experience is not dissimilar to those experienced by other men trapped in ‘clip joints’.

A recent article in The Independent talked about “stories of men having their wallets emptied or being marched to cash machines by bouncers and forced to hand over £500 for a couple of soft drinks and a 20 minute chat with a scantily clad young hostess.” 

Incidentally, last year, councils sent text messages to warn unsuspecting customers of Soho’s treacheries.

The message from Westminster City Council read: "£5 to get in, £500 to get out. Criminals operate some of the hostess bars in Soho. Don't enter without knowing what you'll get for your money."

We got the message the hard way.