Ever since printers, editors and publishers became unnecessary vehicles for literary expression, a new breed of voices emerged that are difficult to classify - are they writers or just gossips?
Such is the case of prolific internet Montreal street scribe Oliver Kloseoff, whose real name, address and profession remain unknown.
Some consider Kloseoff a sort of rough-hewn Montreal version of Henry Miller or William Burroughs, while many others would simply dismiss him as a deviant or degenerate sex addict.
Kloseoff - who has no literary pretensions or ambitions - has spent 15 years painting graphic images of his visits among Montreal's downtrodden, whom he deals with and often befriends in hopes of finding commercial sex bargains, all while apparently maintaining some semblance of respect and good manners.
His efforts have spawned a wide array of reactions. One woman in her twenties reacted to a profile I wrote on him (below) by vowing never to set eyes on the publication again.
Another young woman - now a esteemed scientist - recently thanked me for writing about him.
"I was a huge fan of his writing," she wrote. "It was fucking poetry. He was a creative genius."
Montreal musical group The Scroll even
wrote a song about him,
I met Oliver one evening at St. Hubet and De Maisonneuve in 2003 after speaking to him on the phone many times - he's a chatterbox - and we strolled the strip along Ontario just east of the bus station near the
Fun Spot Bar where he'd strike up conversations along the way.
No sex transactions occurred during our time but he shared his arcane street wisdom and chatted with a variety of demimondaine characters along the route.
The tall, outgoing and affable working-class anglo from Lasalle is
considered a resource for wisdom and amusement among others sharing his hobby.
Over the years he shared his knowledge about how to best conduct negotiations in order to shave five bucks off a sex service or get a more satisfying experience in a massage parlours in thousands of
posts on such sites as (the now defunct) Canbest and Merc, where he posted
4,500 times between 2006 and 2009 and
another 900 since announcing his apparent retirement from the pursuit.
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| Not the real Oliver Kloseoff |
Kloseoff also appears to have attracted the frequent disapproval of moderators who have deleted photos he posted.
Here's a sample of one of his literary efforts describing his time with down-and-outers near Atwater on Nov. 5, 2005, this one without much mention of sex and demonstrating much compassion to those he spends his time with.
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hi memberstoday i did my good deed of the day-ive helped many people over the years and never look for anything in return--its interesting to be able to converse with the down and out who have all their marbles--ive recently met a few people who are on welfare and ive been drinking with them over the last few weeks-today i brought 2 big bags of stuff for them-pansé glasses utensils for the kitchen storage jars for sugar spice etc- and a bag of video movies and they love this and wathc all day long.-one of the many visitors who passed throught their apartment was a gentlemen who i could tell by briefly talking to him he had money and a good job at 1 time-older than me he aloso had prostate problems at one time and had his removed and he said he can still do the nasty as some im told cant after.-ive met many like him over the years and its kind of a wakeup call as you realise it could be you 1 day--he had a great job in the 50k + range and was forced into early retirement--he has a good pension but its not indexted-today he is on the street-long story-recently a fight with the adminastration of his apartment complex and bad judgment and actions on his part and voila.actually theer is a guy who worked for the same corperation and lived near me and the same /similar story--this guy lost his job(my age) and is on the street-they threw him out of his dwelling--this was a long story as well but i think both cases drugs and complaints from neightbours and not paying rent were all factors.after a brief stay here i passed to atwater metro-many inuit woman--1 real cute one and guess waht this one had all her teeth--i dont know waht it is with these inuits but most seem to have lost teeth and from wath ic an astertain its pribably through violence--anoterh real cute on i saw with a real black eye and bloodyed eye-i asked what happened and she said her husband beat her up--anoterh one sitting with cowboy boots and drinking beer out of a burger king cup told me her husband she caught cheating and he threw her out--2 more arrived one whit a bidy that says fuck me fuck me-actually she is the one who i saw at the place i drink and she wa passed out in bed-and yesterday she was panhandling and i came back to find her in hopes of fucking her--today i went out with just a bit of money as this weekend ive blown $640 and enought is enought.there was a sthubert street hooker in the atwater entrance down befroe you go up the stairs--not attractive at all but i recognised her as she came after me many times-taking the metro at atwater i was grossed out--im walking and loooking down and see waht looks like bloobs of greenish brown sludge and i say no it cant be--go to sit and i see this old bumb with his leg up and shit dripping down his ankles to the bench-yup--so i exit stage right as far away from him as i can be.weather was cold and rainy--in this apartment complex where ive been drinkign there is a lot fo woman who use drugs--holld a stlaurent streek hooker from verdun is always tehre--she was a useless fuck the time i had her and not the cleanest so iven if she offered herself for free id refuse heroliver---
And below is the feature article I wrote about him, published in September 2003.
Warning some of the content might be considered a little gross.
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Red Light Luminary: Whoremonger shares tawdry tips for navigating Montreal’s demimonde - September 2003
The strapping early-middle aged man sauntering the streets with a gentle voice and disarming smile hasn't always prioritized the challenge of getting more street bang for his buck.
But after a breakup five years ago William (names have been changed to protect the less-than-innocent) started cultivating his a taste for the joys of inexpensive sexual bliss with women who prowl the streets just east of the bus terminus. In that time he’s managed to get intimate with over 200 women including a wide variety of crack hos to basket cases and is happy to share his accumulated wisdom of his craft.
“Hookers aren't unionized. They will always try to get more,” says William while sauntering in the early twilight on St. Hubert near Ontario, “So I can nickel and dime them because their need for drugs is greater than my sex drive.”
The talkative working class toiler says he broke more hearts in his youth than the average guy, a pattern that didn't prepare him for his own romantic eviction. “I was devastated,” he says of being dumped. “After that the first woman I got picked up by was at Thursdays, she invited me for coffee and I spent the weekend. She was a divorced and we had sex without a condom and shortly after I felt a burning sensation, I got the two swabs down the dick,” he says. Penicillin cured the ailment but he’d look to treat his lingering romantic disillusionment elsewhere.
“One day I was bicycling near the Rose Bowl when I ran across a girl who used to live in my area. She wanted forty for a BJ and I only offered her 20 and she complied,” the two coupled in the great outdoors in full view of highway traffic. “It was amazing. I was intrigued.”
William would write up the encounter in his meticulously maintained diary of sexual encounters with local prostitutes, a list that averages over 50 a year, information which he happily shares on lurid internet forums.
He also maintains a diary of the results of his regular testings for STDs, “That way, if I ever caught something, I’d have a good idea of where I got it,” he says, noting that so far he’s been deemed clean. William’s cash fueled conquests also include many experiences in massage parlours, only some of which offer sexual services. “Before you hand over any money, make sure that it’s clear they’re going to massage all of you,” he says. One way to accomplish and avoid spontaneous price markups is to blatantly “point to the front of your pants and ask ‘do you include this part too’?”
But lately William has found better value among the street hookers and speaks of his conquests like a backpacker describing the beaches of Thailand. But some simply don’t pan out, including a recent encounter in which he agreed to supply a hooker $20 for cocaine to be deducted from later services. “She had been awake for five days on a binge. At the hotel she took her clothes off. I was turned off by the scabs, bruising and needle marks. When she went in to shoot up, she came out all fucked up. I told her I’d stay with her for the hour to make sure she was ok but I didn't want to fuck her because I was turned off by her scabs. She was picking at them and forcing her finger sin her ears. I said ‘be fair, give me back 20 and keep 10 because we did nothing,’ she replied that it was her money now.”
The desperate streets also include a woman mother of four who juggles as a hooker and a shoplifter. “Steaks, videos, she hides all kinds of stuff under the stroller. She takes her four kids to steal with her like a shield, most probably don’t have the heart to turn her in.”
Other unlikely purveyors of poonani include certain hacks motoring through the city streets, “A taxi passed me and the guy rolled down the window and said ‘the girl in the back thinks you’re cute.’ I get in and she asks if I want anything, I say ‘a BJ would be great.’ The cab driver later turns around and says, ‘She gives great head eh?’ I said ‘just drive!’ Some drivers will tell you hookers and drug dealers are their best customers, but they've got to make sure they pay upfront or else get burnt.”
To make sure what looks like a hooker isn't actually an undercover cop William advises men to never directly ask for sex, if there’s any doubt “get her to touch you, if she does that, or lets you touch her, she’s not a cop.” Another part of his ritual includes urinating and rinsing before and after, whenever possible. For those not expecting surprises, be wary of transsexual hookers. “They come out late at night and some are difficult to tell. I met one looked like a good looking girl, she has real boobs but still beans and weiner in pants.”
William’s enthusiastically speaks of the odd outdoor frolic in a neighbourhood backyard and also raves about stress-free experiences like the one he had with a 38 year old German crackhead who he met outside the Fun Spot bar. “We waited in the cold for the dealer to come, she let me feel her up and down, I quite enjoyed it. We went to a motel on St. Andre, it cost $20 for a room and I gave her $40.”
“Never pay more than $20 for oral sex,” says William. “I had a young girl 18 tall, with dark hair who wanted to give me a BJ for 40. I told her I’d never pay more than 20. So she said ‘fine.’ I said wasn't interested she begged me to start her day off for $10,” says William. “You have to admit at those prices it’s tempting.”
But too good a bargain might lead to pang of guilt. “One time I felt bad that I had exploited a girl who asked for money for food. I said let’s go the hotel and I’ll give you my change. I gave her $20 and a chocolate bar in exchange for one of the best BJs I have gotten and awesome sex last November. I met her again in January and took her to the bar, she ordered the most expensive drink, the barmaid said no. I gave her $5 for the poker machine, I told her to get off the street and collect welfare.”
William reserves his disgust for the insalubrious hotels on the circuit and underagers. “It breaks my heart when I see young girls on the street just tonight a saw a knockout near the Montcalm Park she quoted me 80 full sex. She looked 15, a tall beautiful girl. I almost felt like calling the cops but they don’t give a shit.”
Those seeking the pleasures of street hookers must couple a sense of adventure with a stomach for mayhem. “I met this hooker with the biggest tits I ever saw,” he says.
“We got to her place and start having sex, then the door bell rings, it’s the dealer. She opens the bathroom door and her roommate is blowing a guy in there. The drug dealer came out and I decided to walk with him rather than do something stupid like punching the chick out, which crossed my mind. The only positive thing I can say about her was no body odour but her legs reminded me of a much older woman.”
William has no plans to end his adventures in the fleshy underbelly of the desperate city, which he says he prefers to non-cash based monogamy. “With street whores you don’t have to feel to please them so a lot of stress is off you with them, generally.”
