That balancing act, however, may not be what decides the issue ultimately. The internet offers advertisers near-boundless freedom and accessibility, an advantage that more sex workers are discovering each week. Add it all up, and the future of dirty ads in alternative newsweeklies appears less rosy than most of the cheeks that appear in these pages.
News flash: sex without love is not rare. Prostitution isn't a start-up industry born of recent venture capital -- it's the world's oldest profession. History is filled with temptations of the flesh. Archeological discoveries suggest women in Ancient Greece were fond of dildos, despite a difficulty in finding alkaline batteries. Hollywood movies and, later, television pushed sex squarely into the public eye. The internet put pornography a click away. Mainstream actresses appear nearly nude on magazine covers displayed in plain sight of small children standing with immune mommies at grocery store checkout lines. People visualize carnal pleasure about as often as food, water, sleep, or even healthy 401(k) statements. Sex sells, and business entrepreneurs have long exploited the phenomenon. Gorgeous faces and bodies peddle almost every product. "Family newspapers" such as Fort Worth Star-Telegram publish department store ads featuring people in their skivvies. The ads generate few angry calls from readers because sexuality is downplayed -- department store models seldom suck on bananas. Ads in the Weekly are blatantly sexual, with women shown painted in tiger stripes, or reclining in come-hither positions, or disheveled as if recovering from sexual encounters that might or might not have been pleasant. The ads generate thousands of dollars a week but can also put reporters in compromising positions, and not the good kind. Ben Johnston recently handed a friend a copy of the Dec. 6, 2001 Fort Worth Weekly with the cover depicting a determined-looking Johnston leaning against a red-white-and-blue airplane beside a headline that declared, "To Bosnia, With Lust -- A Texas mechanic is among those accusing a Fort Worth company of complicity in sexual slavery." The story described how Johnston endured threats, protective custody, unemployment, and a smeared reputation after blowing the whistle on overseas employees of DynCorp, a billion-dollar company with offices in Fort Worth. The company provides American workers for overseas assignments, and some employees have purchased immigration papers of young women forced into prostitution -- in effect, owning the women as slaves. The Weekly story helped bring Johnston's accusations and plight to public attention and led to other media interviews, an invitation to a Washington, D.C., human rights conference, a request to address a U.S. Senate subcommittee, and the possibility of a prime-time television interview with Diane Sawyer. Johnston is proud of his stand and his willingness to suffer personal hardship for the sake of principle. His friend read the story and marveled at the audacity of Americans to so blatantly exploit women. He finished the story, and kept turning pages. Oops. He found the Weekly's sex-ad section. The ads provide money that allows writers to spend weeks researching important stories that affect a community. But the end and the means make a strange pair. Printing adult ads in a newspaper lamenting the exploitation of Bosnian women reeked of a double standard, Johnston's friend told him. "He said, 'I thought it was awkward for this magazine to write about how good you were to stop this, and then you flip one more page and it's sex this and sex that.' " Johnston said the Weekly's ads don't exploit women to the extent of the Bosnian situation. "What you're advertising is probably not illegal," he said. "If you were advertising sexual exploitation of a 12-year-old or buying slaves, I would be upset." How would he feel if ads in the Weekly solicited customers for prostitutes? "If I knew the ads were for prostitution, I would probably have a problem with them being in the same magazine with my article," he said. Oops again.
It's as plain as the silicone in a stripper's breasts that adult entertainment ads involve sex, but exactly what kind of sex (and whether it's legal) remains murky. Well, slightly murky. Some ads strongly suggest prostitutes seeking customers. Despite the sexual inferences, ads that show a sexy woman and list an hourly fee don't necessarily mean sex is being sold, said a Weekly ad sales rep who requested anonymity to protect customer confidentiality. "We can guess, we can assume, but nobody really knows -- only them and their clients," the ad rep said. "What one lady explained to me is that it's pretty much for companionship, taking them out to dinner or taking them out to the movies, like a date." No report on whether the lady also sold oceanfront property in Abilene. Journalism school teaches clarification and confirmation, even when situations seem obvious. I call Temptress, whose ad claims she will "satisfy you in any way you want." The phone rings once, and a sweet voice says hello. "Temptress?" I say, ever the smooth-talking lady-killer. "Yes." "Hi, I saw your ad and was wondering what kind of services you offer." "I offer full service for $150 cash." "What is included in full service?" My question triggers a red flag, and suddenly Temptress says, "I have to go, sweetie," and hangs up. Next, I call Heather, who is "warm and wet" according to her ad. A sweet voice answers. In the background, I hear other women talking on phones -- the same background noise I've heard when talking to telemarketers. "Heather?" I ask. "Yes." This time I'm upfront and admit I'm a reporter wishing to discuss her ad and the services she provides. I offer her anonymity. "Honey, this is an agency, and I don't think they would be interested," she says, hanging up without even saying goodbye. Well! I'll bet her name isn't even Heather. |
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