Editors Note: This essay contains mentions of violence, violation of consent.
I started working at a café because a friend recommended it. There, I entered on this unknown world with blue lights everywhere, men standing up and drinking coffee served by a variety of femme-presenting people in lingerie, and a strong sage scent that made me a little dizzy. It was run by a couple who were making a lot of money at our expense, but they were still the best bosses I could aspire to have in this context – and I say this from the experience of working at other similar places.
There was a clear preference from the owners for some of us, and we were paid a little more than everyone else. It was a gender performance for me, almost drag; putting on a wig, lingerie, and heels – which isn't necessarily how I express myself as a trans person. We were the most profitable for them because a somewhat “alt” presentation was a big kink for clients. Even though no one there made a lot of money, me and my group of friends were still the best paid – if you can even say we were well-paid at all.
Success working in cafés depends a lot on knowing how to talk to clients, to get coffee and drinks out of their pockets. That's mostly what café income is made of, but there are also tips for your time and company. You have to be charismatic and smart, but not more than the customers, always have something to say but never interrupting. If you make targeted compliments to them, even better – they want to feel listened to, smart, like a winner, manly, and probably a little better than you. Superior.
It was a gender performance for me, almost drag; putting on a wig, lingerie, and heels...
I had a lot of wild experiences there, and met a lot of people with different realities. Our café was mostly calm, on the second floor of a gallery. Below us in the other cafés there were girls stabbing each other for stealing clients. We didn't have episodes like that because we mostly got along and had codes of conduct, but things weren't drama-free either.
There was this guy who worked in another café who was a friend of the owner, he had a fixation with elves – and my sex working character is in fact an elf. He asked if he could speak with me, have a coffee, and offered a tip that was a little bigger than the usual ones, so I said yes. He turned out to be a creep who touched me everywhere without my consent, went so far as to lick me, even though I told him to stop. We were right in front of everyone but nobody seemed to notice that I was uncomfortable – this was a pretty normal thing to happen. Finally, he gave me the tip and went on his way. I never talked to him again, and if he showed up I would just ignore him while feeling protected with my friends beside me.
There was another episode in the café which wasn't with a client or a worker. There was a naked woman on the street, screaming and having a meltdown. My boss went and brought her into the café, gave her clothes and tried to talk to her. I was worried, so I went to the back of the café and gave her a candy while I listened to her story – which I'm not going to disclose. I'll say that it was pretty alarming. She sat on the couch we used for private sessions, and suddenly asked me to hug her. So we sat there, holding each other, not even knowing the other’s name. Cops came to interrogate her, I stayed with her as long as I was able, till the cops escorted her out. I never saw her again. It was a bizarre thing to have such an intimate moment with a stranger, but I felt a deep understanding of her and what she was going through. Still now I sometimes think about her and wonder what happened to her in the end.
You have to be charismatic and smart, but not more than the customers, always have something to say but never interrupting.
Seeing and living first hand the crude reality of the cafe industry here in Chile made me more negative towards people, but also taught me a lot. I still use some of the skills I learned there, especially how to talk to people in certain contexts, something I have difficulty with because of my autism. Even if it wasn't a job in which I could really accommodate myself, I made some great friends and learned some of the secrets of the business – which I really don't intend to use because it's an exploitative, capitalistic business like most are, and that doesn't get along with my personal ethic, but they are good to be aware of nonetheless.
I've thought a lot on how to better the conditions in these jobs for sex workers, and I think it should be exclusively managed by sex workers for sex workers. I think it’s essential to create our own spaces with our own terms and codes. I know this is not something that is easy to achieve because we are so marginalized, but creating community between sex workers can be really helpful especially in terms of safety and support, which most of us really need.
Are you a sex worker with a story, opinion, news, or tips to share? We'd love to hear from you!
We started the tryst.link sex worker blog to help amplify those who aren't handed the mic and bring attention to the issues ya'll care about the most. Got a tale to tell? 👇☂️✨
