I was at University in Liverpool many moons ago. As I was a keen amateur boxer at the time I ended up working part time job for an extra shilling in the cities bars and clubs as many students around the UKdo. But instead of doing bar work I ended up working the doors. It paid better than bar work and I got to meet some pretty interesting characters.
One of the pubs which opened until late and had a small dance floor was called Garfields. Not sure if anyone remembered it but I'm going back to very late 80's/early 90's and showing my age. It was a rum old place where we often had a doorman permanently standing n the gents toilets subject to the presence of certain known clientele as they would try to pass drugs to each other under the walls that divided the cubicles.
Also, it was sometimes used by certain street girls who had some sort of arrangement with somebody somewhere that they could bring the odd punter back there and have a few minutes in the gents toilets with them as long as it was quiet in the pub and apparently only the more "respectable" client (as vetted and assessed by these ladies) would be brought in. The punters were unaware that we door staff knew either the girl or what was on the cards as they walked in as it appeared that the M.O was hush hush so as not to frighten or intimidate the guys as they came and left, looking very pleased with themselves.
I think admission privileges for this small and select few girls were maintained and funded by some system of barter and exchange or quid pro quo.
I did get to know a couple of these girls when they came in chatting with us and one in particular was a honey and very sweet. As I kept my studious life largely to myself when at work and also never prying too deeply into anyone else's business as I learnt was the way things ran, I didn't ask the girls too many questions including this one. She stopped coming in after a while and I kicked myself for not organising a bit of business with her myself but having got to know her it would have seemed rude to me I guess. Plus I was a bit shy back then.
Anyway, I bumped into this very same lady some time later walking with an arm full of A4 files. Turns out she was a student at Liverpool too also doing a different degree in a separate building from me.
She was with some friends so I quickly said Hi, and after the colour, which had drained from her face started to return as she realised I wasn't going to drop her in it with her friends, we arranged to meet up for a coffee. She has stopped working because someone from uni (staff) had recognised her (whilst he just happened to be passing that area one night) and threatened to expose her which turned into a bit of blackmail attempt. Another working girl had tried to help by telling her boyfriend who sent his boys to pay a visit and.....blah blah blah. It all frightened my friend to death and she quit. I still never got to partake!
I'm not sure if this is remotely interesting or even relevant to the thread but it triggered a memory which I thought I's share. You all know what I'm like by now!
One slightly relevant point perhaps is that, whilst I generally agree with the opinions on here regarding risks of Street Girls, though I did partake some years ago in Preston as previous posts of mine make reference to, I now live in Blackpool and will tend to drive down Palatine Rd if I am genuinely passing that way in the evening. I never stop, I only pass through the once and there is always police presence anyway, but it's just nice to see whats about.
I popped down one day last week circa 9pm and as I turned left at the bottom of Palatine Rd onto the road at the back of the Courts and headed south, there was an absolute darling walking purposefully towards Palatine Rd about 300 yards away. She looked about 20 years old, 5ft 2' ish, long dark hair, very pretty. I double took on her simply because she was hot and, to my surprise she met my gaze and smiled back.
Turning around as discreetly as possible at the earliest opportunity I headed back, trying to work out how to speak to her and perhaps arrange to meet the following day as now was impossible. I wrestled a business card out of my wallet thinking I will get her to text me her number.
Getting a grip from this stupid disclosure idea I scribbled my number on a bit of paper with the same idea of just getting a number tonight.
Could I find her again, though.......?
Could I buggery. She probably wasn't even working. She was probably just a pleasant young lady smiling back at the middle aged bloke who had smiled at her on this lovely sunny evening.
Anyway, that's my thoughts....Yeah, Street girls....not safe!!
Sorry to hear of the OP's experiences though and I do think you should anonymously tip off the police. We all want everyone to be safe, the girls and us punters.
All the best
Titton.
