In case people arenâ€™t aware, Nevada brothels work on a system of bells. Thereâ€™s the doorbell that people ring to get in. Thereâ€™s the lineup bell (long, loud, clanging) and thereâ€™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 Iâ€™m lying down, attempting to sleep, the doorbell awakens me (as itâ€™s meant to); the lineup bell is a nuisance and impossible for me to sleep through. Iâ€™m a light sleeper; Iâ€™m sure some girls arenâ€™t. Even when awake, the bells make me jump, as I guess theyâ€™re meant to.
Though everyoneâ€™s shift is officially 1pm-1am, weâ€™re really on call around the clock anytime weâ€™re there. Yes. My sleep schedule is destroyed and Iâ€™m spending a lot of time taking terribly interrupted naps.
After getting the results of my tests back around 3pm via fax into the brothel’s office, I was taken to the local sheriff’s office to get my work card. It’s pretty much the same invasive process as getting a sheriff’s card in Vegas to strip. This work card is yellow, has my picture and index fingerprint on one side, and on the other, clearly states I’m working as a prostitute. No “entertainer” crap.
I don’t get to keep my card, it goes into the black records box in the brothel’s office. It will live there forever (as far as I know). If I don’t work in 30 days, I’ll have to get a new card. It expires in a year.
When I get back, I change into a cute, non-sexy dress since I’m going to follow Katya or Bobbie around and learn the brothel procedures. An old guy sitting in the bar notices me and wants me. Since I’m here to make money and the brothel is here to make money off me, I get the green light.
I was busy yesterday and did not get a chance to make any notes other than into my voice recorder. Bedtime was after 2am. And I was awakened this morning before 6 for the possibility of a customer. So….going to run and fully wake up, get ready for the day and write about yesterday.
Doing good, just tired.
last night continuedâ€¦
After making my post last night, I went out to the common rooms to socialize. The girls were friendly. There is Katrina, a semi-finalist on Americaâ€™s Next Top Model (or one of those model shows) â€“ she told me after I said she looked like a model. Sheâ€™s done print and promotion work in Vegas as well.
I watched a couple line-ups. From my vantage point (making sure the men didnâ€™t see my medically-uncleared self), the line-ups were not in the least degrading and had a laid-back, high-school-dance charm. Every girl in the house is different, so men can easily pick their â€œtype.â€ It also keeps anyone from being offended since no one person is direct competition to another.
Katya, our resident Russian, talked to me at length about policy, procedure and how she conducts her business. Sheâ€™s older, but is a degreed engineer. She has her accent and big blue eyes. Her success (and she does make money) is due to her personality, intelligence and sexual skills. She tells me this. Sheâ€™s quite proud of her abilities. Why not?
I listen to Katrina at the CB radio. Not too bad, but itâ€™s generally really fuzzy and hard to hear. Thereâ€™s a script we get to work from.
I watch The Colbert Report and go to sleep. (Thereâ€™s a TV in every room over the bed, kind of like in a hospital or some motels.)
I wake up bright and early. I have to go out for my run, then get back to get ready to head into Elko for my medical exam and paperwork. Instead, I end up talking on the phone and just walk around, no running. Since the food here is rather processed-carb-heavy and not as many whole grains, light proteins and fruits as I want, I need to run.
Fix my own breakfast and take a shower. Iâ€™m ready to roll, itâ€™s 9am.
After making a wrong turn into Utah, I get on the right highway and have the drive to Wells almost completely by myself the whole way. It is quite beautiful. I understand the attraction the American West has had for artists.
Thanks to my 3hour detour, Iâ€™m too late to get into the doctor today, so early tomorrow morning I will go and have my medical tests and business paperwork done. Also, Iâ€™ll get to check out the local Wal-Mart and pick up everything I forgot to bring with me â€“ as usual. When I get back to the brothel, I begin my training. I wonâ€™t get clearance until Friday. Which leads to me being sort of quarantined â€“ I canâ€™t be in the same room or interact with customers until Iâ€™m declared medically sound. Iâ€™m amused. It does mean I donâ€™t have to worry about my appearance for another day or so.
The brothel itself does have a trailer look in its design, but it does not seem to be built off a house trailer (grew up in East Texas, Iâ€™ve seen a few). Itâ€™s one story, sort of an I or H shape and freshly painted a red-clay color. Itâ€™s not glamorous, but it is roomy, clean and effort has been made to make it appealing. There are several interior renovations going on as well. I take that as a good sign.