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The Down & Out Issue

Hard Times Down Under

$90 a pop ain't bad.

Photo by Marcus Griffin

Like most Americans, I had no idea prostitution was legal in Australia until I moved to Sydney. They even passed a law recently making it legal for prostitutes to work out of their homes! God, I love this country. After being turned down at countless job interviews in every field imaginable, I applied for work at a couple of Sydney’s gay male brothels. I’m kinda smart, kinda cute, kinda young, kinda blonde, and very gay, so what did I have to lose (besides my last ounce of self respect)? I’d been getting $10 an hour waiting tables and gay whores were making 9 times that, sometimes for doing nothing more than talking to a fat computer administrator from Wagga Wagga. Both agencies I applied to paid about the same: $90 per hour out of the $150 or more that the client pays (and they pay more for outcalls where the worker is driven to the john’s place). During outcalls, you check in by phone at the beginning and the end of each job. In case of an emergency, there’s a codeword to tip off the brothel that something’s amiss. Here are some other interesting facts I picked up at my interviews: • Brothels don’t pay you for your shift. You only get paid if someone wants to fuck you. Therefore, they’re prone to hiring boys with a wide range of looks (read: ugly to not-as-ugly) so they have a fully stocked coop. You can sit in the brothel all night and not make shit. • An American accent scores big points. One manager showed me a picture of a “blonde surfer boy” from the U.S., who looked shockingly like me, and said he did extremely well. • Penis size is listed as a bare minimum of 7 inches (my 6 inches was exaggerated on the form). They said they’ve never had a complaint from a client. The manager is “required” to confirm any new worker who claims to pack over 8 inches. • Although the house rules state otherwise, taking drugs with your client is pretty much OK. It’s either ignored or slightly encouraged. As long as you can finish the rest of your shift, party on dude. WILFRED BRANDT