From the Bay Guardian in San Francisco in February 1998:
San Francisco strip clubs may be pushing dancers into prostitution.
By Kerwin Brook
LISA STOCK BEGAN working as an exotic dancer at the Market Street Cinema
strip club in March 1996. The following month, she was transferred to the
Century Theater on Larkin Street. The club required each dancer to turn over
a $125 "commission" (later raised to $150) from her tips after each shift,
and Stock sometimes found it difficult to earn even that daily minimum, much
less make any money for herself. She soon discovered that other dancers were
making their quotas by doing "extras" -- sexual favors for customers.
According to a lawsuit Stock filed against the club in August 1997, when
Stock complained about the situation to club manager Mike Sohbi, he yelled
at her, saying: "I don't care what you have to do. Jerk them off. Make your
money. As long as you make your quota." In another incident described in
the lawsuit, Stock protested to Sohbi that customers were touching her breasts
and crotch without her consent. Sohbi allegedly refused to take any action,
telling her: "Let them. That's what they pay for."
Stock says the incidents caused her emotional stress, panic attacks, and
depression. She quit her job at the club in February 1997. In August she
filed suit against Sohbi and Bijou Group Inc., which owns the Market Street
Cinema and the Century Theater.
The suit charges the club's owners and management with sexual harassment,
infliction of emotional distress, and state labor code violations. The case
is pending in San Francisco Superior Court; no trial date has been set. Sohbi
declined to be interviewed for this story, but in a response filed with the
court Nov. 14, Bijou Group lawyers state that Sohbi's comment "I don't care
what you have to do" shows that he was not encouraging them to break the
law, but that he was "concerned about plaintiff meeting her quota, and did
not instruct her to perform sexual acts."
Stock is one of many San Francisco exotic dancers who say they feel pressured
to perform illegal acts at work. The issue has drawn attention from several
local and state agencies, including the San Francisco Human Rights Commission,
the California State Labor Commission, and the San Francisco District Attorney's
Office, which has been investigating the Market Street Cinema and other strip
clubs since last May.
But none of those agencies has taken action against the clubs, and dancers
at the Market Street Cinema and the Century Theater still have to turn over
$150 to the club every time they work. "The policy is that if we don't come
up with the money, for whatever reason, then we get fired," Carla, a dancer
at the Cinema, told us. (All dancers' names, except Stock's, have been changed
at their request.) "Girls get desperate, so they're pulling tricks. It's
right out in the open."
Carla says the prostitution that goes on in the club has a direct impact
on her work. "Whenever my customers see there's a girl doing a blow job or
something, they want it, and I have to explain why they can't," she told
us. (Stock's suit alleges that she heard other dancers discussing "performing
sexual acts, including ... oral sex ... with the customers.")
Janet, another Market Street Cinema dancer, tells a similar story: "The business
really changed a lot when the quota came in. A lot of people have dropped
their standards because they've got to make money." Janet says the increased
competition between dancers has also caused the price of dances to fall to
half its level of just one year ago. "It's really made it difficult for us
to make money and not cross the lines," she told us. "I try to keep my standards
the best that I can. That's all I can do."
According to Carla and Janet, many of the dancers at the Cinema are performing
illegal acts, risking arrest and making it more difficult for others to earn
money without turning tricks. But while they say competition between dancers
is the direct cause of declining prices and increasing sexual activity, Carla
and Janet -- and Stock's lawsuit -- blame management for the situation.
"A lot of girls feel pressured into it," Carla says. "They do it to make
sure that they can make their quota."
"The lines wouldn't be crossed if there weren't such a large fee to pay,"
Janet says. "The club owners have allowed the girls to do things that we
never did before so that we could give them larger amounts of money."
In her suit Stock makes the same claim: that the club "allow[ed] other dancers
to perform sexual services upon customers, thereby preventing [Stock] from
obtaining tips in a legal manner."
The dancers we interviewed went out of their way to stress that they do not
oppose prostitution -- just the economic coercion that goes along with the
commission system in the clubs. Members of the Exotic Dancers' Alliancee,
which works to improve conditions for dancers, argue that decriminalizing
prostitution would actually help dancers.
"Decriminalization would impact the owners' ability to engage in these types
of unfair labor practices," Johanna Breyer, an EDA cofounder, told us. "Right
now people are afraid to speak out because what they're doing is illegal,
so there's no protection. Hardly anyone even talks about it with each other
because they don't want to be marked. Also, with the police busting the workers
on the street, a lot of [longtime prostitutes] will go into those clubs where
it's easy to just walk in and get a job. That's complicating matters a lot."
The EDA hopes to encourage women not to use club premises for prostitution.
"Prostitution within the clubs puts economic pressure on other women," Breyer
says. "Customers sometimes even get angry and abusive when another dancer
won't put out."
Pay your way
Dancers at the Market Street Cinema once worked under a straightforward system:
Dancers kept their tips, while the club took in cash from customers at the
door. In March 1992 the club introduced "stage fees" of $10 a shift; the
fees were raised to $20 early the next year. In May 1993, Market Street dancers
Breyer and Dawn Passar called the first meeting of the Exotic Dancers' Alliance;
more than 30 dancers attended. (Breyer and Passar no longer work as dancers.)
In July 1993 the EDA filed a complaint about the Market Street Cinema's stage
fees with the California State Labor Commission, arguing that it was illegal
to charge employees for the right to work. After a two-and-a-half-year legal
struggle (during which the stage fees were raised to $25), the commission
upheld the dancers' complaint.
The victory was short-lived. The EDA had hoped the rulings would lead to
a system by which dancers would keep their tips and collect minimum wage.
Instead, club management introduced a new system that enabled the club to
keep even more of the dancers' tips.
According to the EDA, the club owners insisted that the dancers' performances
were the property of the club -- a stipulation that allowed management to
charge a hefty commission on each dance "sold." Dancers were thus officially
required to turn over 60 percent of their tips. Since the club had no way
to keep track of the "sales" of dances, management introduced a daily minimum
of $200 in "commission earnings" that had to be turned over at the end of
each shift. By asserting ownership of the dancers' performances, in other
words, the Cinema was able to rename stage fees "commissions" -- and raise
them to eight times their previous level.
In January 1997, shifts were lengthened from five hours to eight and the
fee was raised again, to $250, before it fell to its current level, $150
a shift. Most of the Market Street Cinema's dancers went to work at other
clubs, but the difficulties followed them as other clubs adopted similar
commission policies.
Other changes at the Market Street Cinema followed. When dancers had performed
only on a single main stage, management built small, secluded areas for greater
dancer-patron interaction. According to EDA members, managers repeatedly
told dancers: "We won't be watching you. Do whatever you have to do to make
your quota." (In her suit Stock claims Sohbi told her much the same thing;
she says he told her, "I don't care what you have to do ... as long as you
make your money.") With the dancers worried about making their daily minimums,
Breyer says, and Stock's complaint alleges, sexual contact became increasingly
standard practice.
Meanwhile, the San Francisco Police Department has stepped up enforcement
of prostitution laws on the streets, pushing street workers directly into
the newly "unfettered" clubs. Faced with competition from longtime prostitutes
and other dancers, and forced to meet the clubs' minimums, many of the dancers
who remain feel compelled to "put out" or lose their jobs.
Many dancers have left the industry. Others have made compromises in order
to stay. "Some of the dancers have children, or a drug addiction is definitely
going to keep you there," Carla says. "But for most of us it's girls who
have been strippers for years and years and didn't expect these changes.
They just feel trapped. That's definitely my story. I just don't know what
else to do, I'm a stripper."
Janet tells much the same story. "I haven't got many other options," she
says. "It's the type of job where you could work a lot less than 40 hours
a week, have time for your kids, and have time for another career that you're
working on. Those are the ideal things about the job -- you make enough money
to survive.... It's hard money, but I do make it."
Though dancers' earnings vary greatly, a dancer working at Market Street
before the quota system was introduced might have taken home $100 to $300
a night, veteran strippers say. According to EDA members, a dancer working
there today might find herself struggling to meet the daily minimum two out
of five nights unless she offers illegal services. Even on a good night,
a dancer who refuses to engage in prostitution would have a hard time earning
more than $100 after paying off the club. On a slow night, dancers have no
choice but to pay a portion of the fee out of their own pockets, hoping to
recoup their losses the next day.
Private dancers
A number of other clubs have also introduced secluded areas and private rooms.
Dancers allege that with them has often come illegal sexual contact. Stage
fees and commission systems have also spread.
According to the EDA, dancers at the four San Francisco clubs owned by
Déjà Vu Inc. -- Centerfolds, Casbah, the Garden of Eden, and
the Roaring 20s -- pay a 50 percent commission on all their dances and are
subject to fines for infractions such as lateness. In an apparent attempt
to undersell the competition, Déjà Vu has also posted signs
imposing a $20 price ceiling on nude lap dances. With "two-for-one" days
and the club's commission, a dancer now keeps $10 for a performance that
would have brought $100 to $120 just a year ago.
Several Déjà Vu clubs have also introduced small cushioned
beds in their theme rooms; Centerfolds features a circular bed that's more
than six feet across. The club's Web page advertises "bed dances," urging
customers to "let your favorite showgirl take you to bed."
Déjà Vu officials did not respond to repeated interview requests.
At the O'Farrell Theater, dancers continue to pay a $30 stage fee to an outside
booking agency, the Dancers' Guild International, for each evening's work.
A 1994 court case filed by a group of dancers against the O'Farrell alleges
that the club is in violation of the Labor Commission's ruling against such
fees; the case is still in litigation.
The situation at the O'Farrell is complex. Dancers are able to earn more
than at other clubs, and some have successfully adapted to the new working
conditions. Some dancers support the stage fees, mainly because they fear
the introduction of a commission system.
Theresa, a former dancer at the O'Farrell, worked at the club for more than
three years before she began to encounter difficulties. "I could not make
any money. It was a very gradual thing, but eventually I could not afford
[to work without performing sexual acts for customers]. If customers can
get a blow job, who's going to want to see a dildo show?"
Nancy Clarence, attorney for the O'Farrell Theater, which is owned by the
Cinema 7 corporation, said stories of prostitution at the theater were untrue.
"You can't believe everything you hear," she told the Bay Guardian. "This
is one of the most well-spun tales, [and it comes from] dancers who have
a bone to pick with the house."
Jeff Armstrong, an administrator with the O'Farrell, also denied that
prostitution was happening in the club. "We're not in that business," he
said. "The girls are independent contractors, and we make sure that they
know the laws. The laws are posted everywhere."
At the O'Farrell, management has installed several cushioned lounges in private
rooms. One newspaper ad for the club proclaims, "Dive right into our SEX
CENTRAL -- forbidden fulfillment everytime in a VIP Dance Parlor!" The theater's
Web page further invites customers to take advantage of the club's private
spaces: "What you do on your side of the curtain is your little secret."
Blind justice
Allegations of prostitution in San Francisco's adult theaters have been raising
public concern since the late '70s. Many of the key players in the current
drama have been around since then. In 1977 three North Beach "nude encounter
studios" were forced to close after it was alleged that patrons were being
lured with promises of sex that were never fulfilled. The owner of the clubs,
Sam Conti, was arrested and charged with two felony counts of conspiring
to cheat and defraud customers.
The San Francisco Chronicle reported that Conti settled the case by agreeing
to close the studios and to never again own a strip club in San Francisco.
According to District Attorney Terence Hallinan, Conti now owns 50 percent
of Bijou, which owns the Market Street Cinema and the Century Theater.
Neither the District Attorney's Office nor the City Attorney's Office could
tell us whether that injunction was still in effect, or whether Conti is
violating it by having a stake in the Market Street Cinema and the Century
Theater. "Even if it was in our records, it might have been destroyed already,"
a spokesperson for the City Attorney's Office told us. Conti did not return
phone calls requesting comment for this story.
One person who can't plead ignorance is Willie Brown, who was Conti's attorney
at the time. The EDA met with the mayor in April 1997 to discuss the dancers'
plight. Breyer says Brown gave the EDA a sympathetic hearing and helped
coordinate city and state agencies working on the case, but never passed
on information regarding Conti's agreement to the D.A.'s Office. Brown's
office did not return phone calls regarding this story.
In response to the Conti case, the Board of Supervisors passed a resolution
in 1977 barring private rooms such as those that exist in most San Francisco
strip clubs today. The ordinance is still valid: Section 1072.28 of the city's
police code prohibits private booths or rooms of which "the entire interior
portion ... is not visible from the exterior." But the ban was not enforced
for long. By 1985 private rooms had returned to a number of clubs.
According to EDA cofounders Passar and Breyer, that isn't surprising. Government
agencies, they say, often fail to give sex-industry workers the same respect
or protection as other workers. In 1992, for example, Passar and Breyer filed
sexual harassment charges against Bijou manager Sohbi, claiming he had verbally
and physically harassed them on numerous occasions. After the complaint had
been pending for nearly a year, according to Passar, an investigator from
the Department of Fair Employment and Housing attempted to persuade them
to drop their case.
"He told us our case wasn't that strong," Passar told the Bay Guardian. "He
went to the theater to investigate and talked with the managers and with
four dancers. He asked the four dancers -- in front of the managers -- whether
these managers had ever harassed them, and they said no. He also told one
of our witnesses: 'Well, what do these women expect? They're walking around
in their underwear.' " (The investigator has since left the agency; a
spokesperson for the DFEH could not be reached for comment by press time.)
Passar and Breyer's case will soon go to a mediator at the Equal Employment
Opportunity Commission.
The Department of Fair Housing and Employment is not the only agency from
which dancers say they have encountered prejudice. EDA members say they have
long attempted to persuade the Labor Commission to conduct an audit of club
practices. The EDA hopes to have the Labor Commission rule against the commission
system, arguing that so-called commissions exist in name only. "Dancers are
bringing in cash to pay the fees themselves," Breyer said. "Does that sound
like a commission?"
The agency must initiate an audit, Breyer says; dancers won't come forward
for fear of losing their jobs. "We basically wouldn't be dealing with the
prostitution if the Labor Commission had taken a stand and done an audit,"
she told us.
Jose Millan, the state labor commissioner, said he would need to hear more
complaints before he would investigate the theaters. "Very few women have
stepped forward," he told the Bay Guardian. "I don't care if it's a confidential
or even anonymous complaint, but I need a complaint."
Millan says he will place the clubs in his Targeted Industry Partnership
program so that complaints will be handled by a special task force that currently
keeps an eye on labor violations in the garment and agricultural industries.
Millan says the commission system appears to be legal, although if dancers
are regularly forced to pay from their own pockets the clubs may be violating
the law. "Here again, we have to act on specific complaints, not just
allegations: 'This is what happened during this pay period, when the quota
system was placed so high that the minimum wages that I earned are being
taken back by this employer,' " he told us. He said the Labor Commission
would offer dancers a free educational workshop Feb. 8 to explain their legal
rights as workers.
Slowgoing
The lack of attention paid to dancers' claims has had a significant impact.
"It sets a strong precedent that you can be a pimp in the city and county
of San Francisco and totally get away with it," Breyer says. "You can pimp
out your workers, you can force them into prostitution, you can take all
of their money."
The EDA hopes to convince the San Francisco Human Rights Commission to take
a proactive role in monitoring the clubs. The EDA has also been talking with
the Mayor's Office, the San Francisco Police Department, and the District
Attorney's Office. The group is concerned that the police may at any time
decide to arrest the women who are prostituting, a threat only heightened
by the publication of this article.
"It is a risk," Breyer said. "But I feel like the police have had the opportunity
to go in this entire time, and they haven't. Publicizing what's going on
definitely pushes the issue, but at this point things are so bad that we
feel we have to do that."
Acting lieutenant Ron Kern, commanding officer of the SFPD vice squad, told
the Bay Guardian that he doesn't plan to target the dancers. "It's a real
challenge to try to get the big guy as opposed to the girls -- they are the
real victims in the whole situation," he said. "If I were doing the
investigation, I would be going after the management."
But Kern is not investigating the case; nor is anyone else in the police
department. In May 1997 the investigation was officially transferred to the
office of the district attorney's special prosecutor.
"The police don't go into the clubs," District Attorney Hallinan said. "We
end up depending on what the women tell us." But waiting for dancers to approach
the District Attorney's Office, particularly when they may be engaged in
illegal activities, has not proved effective. "They're afraid they'll be
blacklisted, afraid there will be recriminations against them." Hallinan
acknowledges the situation gives club owners a relatively free hand. "Right
now the clubs are pretty unregulated," he told us.
John Shanley, spokesperson for the D.A.'s Office, told us that if club owners
knew dancers were performing sex acts for tips, they could be charged with
pandering. "If [a club owner] was pimping and getting money on it, he could
be brought up on charges," Shanley said. "But it can be very difficult to
prove knowledge."
Members of the EDA say the D.A.'s special prosecutor, Debra Hayes, has not
pursued the case aggressively enough. Breyer, for one, says Hayes has done
little to actively seek declarations from dancers.
For her part, Hayes says she is willing to try anything to get dancers to
step forward, even confidentially: "I realize it feels like a crawl, but
I can't file a case I know I can't win. I need the information."
Officer Lea Militello, who is acting as a liaison between the dancers and
the police department, supports Hayes's work on the case. "The D.A.'s Office
has done a lot around this," she told us. "You reach a level of frustration
because you need more substance."
Whatever Hayes's responsibility, it is clear that the investigation has been
slowgoing. A handful of signed statements are all she has to show for the
investigation's first year.
Greater oversight
Thanks to the work of the EDA, government agencies are slowly starting to
address the problem. The Human Rights Commission is considering establishing
a board to monitor adult theaters and will hear an update from its employment
committee on the matter Feb. 5.
Still, for the dancers, hope sometimes seems out of reach. Janet expressed
her unease during our interview. "I'm a little bit leery about this whole
article because I don't think anybody's out there to help us, and it could
possibly hurt us," she said. "Nobody's out there who's going to jump into
this situation and say 'OK, we're going to make a difference.' ... People
don't care what happens to us. We're just a bunch of whores."
Janet says she knows too many women who have lost their jobs for criticising
management. Some of the dancers at Market Street seemed visibly afraid of
this possibility, glancing around nervously when I told them I was a reporter.
"Does anyone else know you're here?" one woman asked. She took my card, but
she never called. With a proposal in front of the Human Rights Commission
and hopes for greater enforcement efforts, Breyer is slightly more optimistic.
"Sex workers deserve the same legal protection as anyone else," she said.
"We want to see the places remain in business, but we want them to operate
within the law.... Sex workers have suffered through persecution, through
prosecution, through rampant exploitation, and I feel that it should no longer
be tolerated. I just feel like it's time."
