In reality, there was no wilderness. It was rush hour on Ellice Avenue.
But one driver kept re-appearing, craning his neck for his prey of preference.
We’ll call him “Johnny,” and he was desperately searching for a suitable “Jane.”
I stepped off the curb to try to make it obvious that I was recording the license plate of his vehicle for display on our Web site (www.oocities.org/wccia/johns). As he disappeared around the corner, I thought, “Maybe he's scared. Maybe he's reconsidering the wisdom of cruising around here.” Within 3 minutes he was back.
I decided on a more direct approach. His van stopped at a traffic light and he scanned the sidewalk. I crossed three lanes of traffic, coming from the other direction. I stood between lanes and rapped on his car window. He almost jumped through the windshield. Having already made a spectacle of myself, I spoke loudly enough to be heard by everyone in the area. I asked if he was looking for something in particular. “If you’re looking for a hooker, there’s one just down the street,” as I pointed to one of the regulars. He nervously denied it, and stepped on the gas when the red light changed to green.
Watching him, I figured he was finally going to leave the area. Wrong! He pulled around the corner and tried to inconspicuously wait for the girl to come to his car. I walked back home, shaking my head. What else can you do?
About a week ago, I was invited to “John School.” It’s a one day class on the personal and community implications of prostitution. The class, usually about 35 men, consists of guys who thought they were picking up a hooker, but actually propositioned an undercover cop. Busted!!
It was my fourth time at the “school.” I’ve been given a regular opportunity to inform the Johns about their impact on our neighbourhood.
As I walk in the room, I recognize the same guy I confronted in traffic on Ellice Avenue. The persistent cruiser. You should have seen his face when he saw me!
The interesting thing about these guys in “John School” or the guys in their cars, who haven’t yet been caught, is that they usually don’t believe they’ve done anything wrong. They’ve sheathed their "instruments" and shelved their conscience. They tell themselves they’re helpless victims of sexual incontinence. It may be embarrassing, but they don’t feel it’s wrong.
In his mind, he wasn't circling prey, he was trading a poor woman some spare change for a backlane orgasm. It’s a harmless, perhaps even charitable, exchange. Maybe she’s using it to buy extra groceries for the kids. Maybe she’s a college student, working off the loan.
They don’t understand that each trick brings many of the addicted girls one step closer to an overdose or some other drug-related tragedy.
They don’t want to know that these women haven’t eaten for days. Many have lost their kids. Their smiles are formed by desperation, not affection. They despise the “johns,” and hate themselves.
Johns don’t understand the fear of innocent women and children, walking along the street or standing at the bus stop.
Johns don’t know enough about diseases like TB, Hep C and AIDS. They can’t even imagine how their actions tie in with the vicious cycle of pimps, gangs and dealers.
The question is - if they did know - would they care?
Facts, guilt trips and fear won’t change people who don’t want to change.
“John School” works just like regular school. Teachers teach. Students listen. There’s no assurance that they learn until they get the test. For “Johnny,” it’ll be a test of character, a test of the will.
I’m hoping Johnny passes his test. We’ll be watching.
Rev. Harry Lehotsky
514 Maryland Street
Winnipeg, Mb R3G 1M5
(204) 775-4929
lehotsky@escape.ca