Some (Anti) ‘Fellatio Café London’ Thoughts

Scanning my comedy sketch show’s scene titles, I see brief, unforgiving descriptions-to-self: “Racist Guitar Lessons” “Suburban Drug Dealers” and “Venue Policy Terrorists”. Something that isn’t there is “Fellatio Café” – that one appears in real life. Twice. Once in Geneva,  opening December 2016, and another in Paddington, London, in 2017.  You order a coffee, you select a prostitute on the world’s most unhygienic iPad, you pay €60, and the rest is future. Every piece of official press from the Fellatio Café proudly emphasises that customers will use an iPad to choose a prostitute, as though anyone’s umbrage with the Fellatio Café might’ve been the inherent Neo-luddism of a non-technological prostitute selection process.  Not that the café proponents are terming it a ‘prostitute selection process’ of course – they don’t say ‘prostitute’ or ‘sex worker’ – instead they say ‘escort’, for exactly the same reason a 42 year old Starbucks barista might say they “work in hospitality”, and someone with a PHD in chocolate bar packaging 1995-1997 might call themselves ‘doctor’.

The cafés “will be modelled on similar businesses in Thailand” – which presumably means the prostitutes will be 12 years old and the coffee will give you Typhoid. ‘Typhoid’ itself could just as easily be a new coffee product made by ‘Typhoo’ rather than a disease. It’s a fine line to tread, especially with a raging erection and a double shot, very hot vanilla bullshit latté in your free hand. An alternative, smug technicality of a descriptive offering is “The most expensive coffee in Europe” – Which is probably also true given that it’ll cost you €60, return flights to Geneva, three quarters of your soul and a divorce. By Christmas 2016, the first coffee-brothel will hit number 3 on the “Things Geneva is famous for” charts behind 1) Preceding the word “Convention” and 2) Where people fly to for ski trips.  By Spring 2017, it’ll be out of control: Any male Geneva café patron ordering a Lapsang Souchong will be asked “And would you like a drink with that?” But, enough gags. (Now there’s a joke inside a joke – like one of those pictures of someone holding a picture of themselves holding a picture of themselves holding a picture of themselves.)

droste effect
A headphones-modelling woman who should instead be providing fellatio for remuneration.

By Summer 2017, coffee-brothel number two may be open in London, W2, right next to a landmark railway station famous for a fictional bear from Peru and for non-fictional trains to Wales and the South West.  British children innocently googling “Paddington’s Honey Pot” are in for quite a shock. If, that is, a) Westminster council allows the proposed Paddington branch to open, and b) Businessman/Arsehole Bradley Charvet gets his SEO right. SEO, if you don’t already know, stands for Search Engine Oralsexcafé. Or maybe the “O” is for “Optimisation” – I simply can’t remember – temporarily dazzled as I am by an intense deprivation of both of life’s vital forces: Caffeine, and watching 67 sweaty men get sucked off by sex workers while wondering if the Bakerloo line has re-opened at Paddington yet.  Charvet said of the proposed café’s legality:

“We need to fix some details to avoid trouble. It’s on the way. The project is in progress and at the moment, our lawyer is doing the job to get the right stuff done.” 

Somehow I think this means more than just bribing the Green ‘Scores On The Doors’ people to factor all the Semen out of their first official hygiene rating. Bradley Charvet’s (and his awful/great PR team’s) assumption that we, the people are all automatically on board, on side and backing the lawyer all the way to technically, pedantically manipulate Westminster council into having no option other than to pretend they view this as acceptable, is one of the most disturbing things about his speech.

Fellatio Café proponent Bradley Charvet, posing with a model he doesn’t actually know, and an empty coffee cup.

He continues, “I would say no one is forced to work in this coffee shop. It’s a normal job.” – Oh brilliant, thanks Bradley. Does a person really deserve any great credit for simply not forcing people to be skullfucked? (As well as grotesquely glossing over/slithering past what sounds like a shaky, questionable understanding of the circumstances that may lead to a human, beautiful, real lady applying ‘through choice’ to work at ‘Fellatio Café’.)

He continues, “You do your job, eight hours per day if they decide to work full time” – Eight hours, blowing strangers, for not even the full money? i.e. To have a healthy cut of the €60 go straight into an already-wealthy-businessman’s pocket, as well as contributing to the baristas’ wages and the overheads (anything but tax, basically).  He finishes,

“Good conditions will be provided for their security and health. I’m married, all the guys around the area also, and we respect the ladies.”

Here lies the difference between saying a thing, and doing a thing. A simple concept, but one perhaps eroded in Bradley Charvet’s (and his awful/great PR team’s) twin circles of Business and Pimping.  You see, I can talk about how much I respect Jewish people, Northern Line Tube Drivers and Primary School Children, but if I then go on a massacring rampage round Golders Green, the evidence clearly demonstrates otherwise.  And no amount of stating “I respect Jewish people, Northern Line Tube Drivers and Primary School Children” can change that.  Although it may help with a plea of “Not Guilty By Reason Of Insanity” – Because it sounds a bit mad. And if I receive accusations of cheating the legal system with a fake insanity plea, I’ll just refer everyone back to my famous quote: “I respect the legal system” then set about suing them for compensation.

I would finally like to urge all the sub-fellatio-café-press-release-commenters, who are almost exclusively saying either 1) “Don’t visit the café if you don’t want to, you don’t have to, but leave it alone” or 2) “This sucks. Too many people will be tempted to visit this to blow all their money up the wall” to 1) Not join ISIS (or the US Army) if you don’t want to, you don’t have to, but leave it alone. And 2) Please Not make any more awful jokes.

By Winter 2017, I hope to have earned enough in legal compensation to have bought a flat in Paddington, London and developed more of a liking for coffee.


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