Aug 12, 2008 Bella's (Nevada Brothel)
In case people aren’t aware, Nevada brothels work on a system of bells. There’s the doorbell that people ring to get in. There’s the lineup bell (long, loud, clanging) and there’s the mingle bell (two or three short clangs). Mingle is no lineup, but a customer in the bar who is fair game. We usually ignore the mingle bell, unfortunately for the lineup-shy guys.
When I’m lying down, attempting to sleep, the doorbell awakens me (as it’s meant to); the lineup bell is a nuisance and impossible for me to sleep through. I’m a light sleeper; I’m sure some girls aren’t. Even when awake, the bells make me jump, as I guess they’re meant to.
Though everyone’s shift is officially 1pm-1am, we’re really on call around the clock anytime we’re there. Yes. My sleep schedule is destroyed and I’m spending a lot of time taking terribly interrupted naps.
being a team player
Saturday I discover what it means to be a team player. We are not to let money walk out the door. Do what we must, we need to get the money. The problem with this wonderful, gung-ho attitude is the predictable scramble to the bottom.
My approach to sex work is to always raise rates as much as possible. Fairly, of course, but get ‘em up there. Most girls approach the work with a sense of desperation and lower their rates as quickly as possible. This means guys expect quite a lot for very little. And because I’m the odd fish who wants more for more, there is a growing internal conflict. Well, not completely internal. I piss off some guys.
While I’m supposed to be able to run my business as I wish, it’s difficult when everyone around me is running it differently. It’s also difficult when I understand that if a guy picks me, I should not let him get away without spending money. But it’s not the bartender’s, owner’s or manager’s body which interacts with any given customer, it’s mine.
As an indie escort, if a guy looked at me wrong, it was over. Here, though lip service is given to the idea of control, I don’t get the real sense of it I did when I called every shot. Two girls have told me of being assaulted (in the house), getting scabies and lice and dealing with drunk/drugged customers. Were they not allowed the power of “no”? Or were they just getting what money they could and taking their chances? Again, I wonder how much class issues have to do with this, or if this is simply the nature of the work. My indie escort work was nowhere near as dangerous because I exercised my right to say no as often as the spirit moved me. And that was 80-90% of everyone who contacted me.
Back to being a team player…
Saturday morning I was awakened at 5:30am for a guy in the bar. I said no. But then, I was up. I got dressed to go for my morning run when the bartender came back because there was a new guy in the bar. I sighed and got myself together fairly well. I was here to make money. Why not?
That led to a morning of back-to-back men. Who comes to a brothel at 6am? Apparently quite a few people. And I was the girl to get. So I was gotten.
I was praised for my willingness to work. Yes, I can see how they appreciate it. I made my room/board before noon that day (if you book over $1000 in a day, your room/board is free). Being busy felt good, though it meant there was a lot of things I didn’t get to do (like eat breakfast).
how I dirty hustled
Me being a busy beaver (pun intended) led to my innocent offense. I was in the bar to process payment for a customer who was in the shower. At that very moment, the doorbell rang and the bartender buzzed the guys in. One of the guys saw me and wanted me; he made that clear during the following lineup (I was out of the bar at that time). We are not supposed to be in the bar when customers come in, they should not get a preview. This creates a level playing field when lineup time comes.
I stepped on some toes.
Since I didn’t have my glasses on, I couldn’t see a thing and had no idea any of this was brewing. I wasn’t even paying attention to them, my mind was on my current client. Katya hustled me to the side and told me of my transgression.
Not to toot my own horn, but I come in there looking like a Barbie and I’m quite popular during lineups. It’s already causing problems (one girl mutters under her breath every time I’m picked – making me start trying not to get picked). This guy was very taken with me, which didn’t help, especially given he saw me before he should’ve. After my talking-to, I was back at the bar and his buddy tried to talk to me. Against my natural responses, I gave him the cold shoulder. I could only imagine what would happen if I tried to talk to either of them. They don’t know the rules. Hell, I don’t know the rules and learned by bumping into them. I felt like crying.
But it all worked out – for me, at any rate. The guy waited for me and when I finally appeared from my other customer, he was ready. I mean ready. I got to really look at him and there was instant chemistry. I was perfectly his type and he was mine (a strapping specimen of masculinity). If every brothel guy was like this, this blog would be completely different. So far, he’s the highlight. He was wonderful. Only problem was he could not buy enough with me. (A weekend probably wouldn’t be enough time for me to be done with him, frankly.)
the rest of the day
After recovering from my good boy, I had some more lineups and bookings. I was sore at this point. Really sore.
I got practiced at carefully sleeping in my drag, waiting to drop off to real sleep the instant before a bell would ring. I thought about my day.
Everyone wants a piece of me, but I only have so many pieces to go around. Why weren’t they willing to pay a fair price for it? How can I work them so they can? Why do they think the hottest thing in there (their viewpoint) is going to be somehow cheap?
I decide I need a new policy of asking for more money. I mean, guys expect me to have sex for $100 (I don’t, just so you know). That means $50 for me. That’s street prices. Do I look like a street worker? Class rears its ugly head, yes, but there’s also the completely practical consideration because I know I can get more than that on the free market. Why should I be limited?
Oh…did I mention it’s also a good idea to tip your booking bartender 10% of your take? If you do that, it means you’re really getting 40% of what you book. And when we’re talking low prices already…the math does not look good.
While it’s certainly possible to make the $3500/week average Bella mentioned at her presentation; it means you book $7000/week. That’s $1000/day, meaning you make $500/day. If you get hourly bookings at $600/hr, that’s not too bad. If you get stuck with $100 and $200 guys…the math does not look good. Neither does your attitude.
Factoring time…a 10-minute booking really takes about 30 minutes: lineup, initial tour, dick check, processing payment, the actual booking, escorting him out and personal cleanup time. Minimum 30 minutes. For $50. The math does not look good.
All this is motivation for me to work on my meager seduction skills. Learn to hustle better. I just have a bad feeling about this since I never mastered these skills in the clubs.
I have no idea if Bella and/or Shaunia is reading this and if I’m seriously shooting myself in the foot. They have gone out of their way to make me feel comfortable. The people here are good and I’m fine with them.
It’s the system that is terribly, terribly flawed.
I want a new system.