I want you to imagine that you& #39;ve been following a patisserie cook on social media for a while.

You love the pictures of the cakes they post. You frequently hit that love button.

They& #39;re really friendly too. Giving out advice and answering most comments.

So one day when you& #39;ve been following them a while, it occurs to you that they could probably bring your favourite imaginary creation to life.

Excited, you message them: "hey I& #39;m making plans for when lockdown is over and I& #39;ve always wanted a pineapple pecan flan"

You get a cheery message back: "oh hey I& #39;m sure I can do that for you, flans are a speciality!"

What& #39;s your next message going to be? Surely an enquiry about the price for such a thing, right?

Surely NOT a request to add you on WhatsApp and talk about cake.

Yeah. So why the FUCK you all treat sex workers that way, then?

I& #39;m very, very good at particular kinds of kinky queer intimacy.

Tell the people I am intimate to varying degrees with who DO materially support me in various ways why you who DOESN& #39;T should have access to my bespoke attention and experience.

I sure as fuck can& #39;t see a reason

*sigh* the offender didn& #39;t see this, or didn& #39;t think it was about him, and has sent me two more messages since I ignored that one. The latest one is just his phone number.

Fuck off like.