The Las Vegas Courtesan

Been getting some great questions sent to me… I got quite a few in one email that I thought would be great to answer. Actually I’m going to have to split it up into two entries! Hope the answers interest some others as well! :

Dan Writes: “Do you keep a fairly standard schedule, or do you consider yourself ‘on call’ most of the time? Judging from your tweets your day doesn’t seem to start until late and it seems you may go until sunrise if there’s business. Have you ever even done a call in the middle of the day? You also don’t seem to take many days off, other than vacation.”

I consider myself on call quite a bit because realistically, you can never judge how a day or week is going to go. It could be an early day (calls between 3-9pm) or a late night (3am-8am). There are always lulls in the night so it’s not like you are working for 12 hours straight. The only times that I have had that happen are during huge fight weekends or some convention+event that had a consistent stream of early calls plus late night calls. I do middle of the day calls (which I love because less alcohol is involved!) and I do take days off besides vacation. Every one needs a break! It might seem that I don’t get afternoon or daytime calls because those people don’t seem to do as many funny or crazy things to share with people. They are more cut and dry calls with not much to report on.

“Do you pack outfits when you go to a gig? Keep some spares in the car? How does it work if a guy wants spike heels or a schoolgirl and you don’t have time to go home? And how do you find a balance between looking sexy for first impressions with a client and not screaming “working girl” when you walk into a lobby? Then again, it’s Vegas, maybe walking into the lobby of the Palazzo dressed as “Bo Peep” might help you fit in…”

I don’t typically keep too much in my car as far as outfits go. Sometimes I put some more plain clothes to keep in case I am out until it is daytime and I don’t want to look like a long lost girl who left the nightclub hours before. Some girls keep little bikini type of outfits with them on the weekends (more bachelor parties) but other than that any special outfit requests would need to give us an ample amount of time to go home and change. The only requests I have gotten really are for stockings, which is much easier to pick up on the way to a call than drive all the way home. I’m sure anyone would be able to make outfit requests so long as they made an appointment in advance and not trying to do something last minute. As far as how I like to dress, I think there is a delicate balance between looking good and sticking out as a working girl. I try to dress appropriately to the time of day and the day of week so clients don’t feel so uncomfortable and I fit in. Hard to go pick up a girl at noon wearing spiked heels and a cocktail dress!

In relation to a tweet I sent the other night about a call: “You went to the Travelodge tonight. Gotta be honest, that kinda creeps me out. Is there a direct correlation between the client and their hotel every time? Or can you get a good client at the Travelodge and a shitty one at the Four Seasons?”

Usually, there is no direct correlation between a hotel and a client’s budget. Often times the small, funky hotels surprise you since a lot of people go to them not to sleep in but to have side entertainment since someone else is staying in their regular five star hotel room. There have been times I have gone to suites that cost upwards of $10,000 a night (usually comped because they gamble so much) that don’t work out and then the next call could be a funky place downtown and the client has fun for a few hours. I always say the common phrase, ” You can never judge a book by its cover” because you can’t attribute age, attire, level of inebriation, race, hotel, or room size to the success of the call.

Thanks for the questions and I will continue them in my next post!

So I’ve seen a bachelor dressed up in an Elvis costume too drunk to know his own name, and a bachelor that was so passed out he woke up swinging at his best friends, but I have never seen this amount of embarrassment or brotherly camaraderie as long as I have lived and worked in Vegas, and for some odd reason two of the three parties were British. All three of these parties by the way, occurred within two weekends:

The first party was at the Hard Rock, the guy who came downstairs to get me and four other girls (yes, 5 of us, and we all were not too pleased about the number of girls) , was a super nice guy from London and took us right upstairs and immediately gave us the crazy expensive company fee. In the next room were 12-14 loud, unruly Brits who apparently were all broke but wanted their friend to have the best time, just don’t embarrass him too much. Since we didn’t get tipped much at all upfront, we did a quick pile up dance on the bachelor and got him down to his boxers like we all normally do on bachelor parties. I noticed his silky boxer briefs had a photo of himself on it with the words, “I’m With Tim” underneath the photo. I laughed and said, “How cute did your friends make you those?” and he said, “Yes, actually…. HEY EVERYBODY DROP TROU AND SHOW THEM!” I turn around to see 12 guys at attention, all simultaneously unbuckling their pants and pulling their pants down. I felt like I was in a movie watching the synchronized pants-dropping, but sure enough all of the guys were wearing matching boxers with their buddy’s picture only 3 inches away from their own package. They must have practiced this moment together back home because they seemed to chime in   “Yea! Cause we’re with Tim!” I almost died laughing.

The second party, and I think the most funny, was also a group of British guys staying on the strip. I show up and due to some misunderstanding by the phone girl and best man, I am the only girl and there are 12 of them. I quickly explain to the best man 4-5 guys can stay but since they were in a bit of a hurry and on a tight budget, I couldn’t get another girl there in time. Since there were only a few guys chipping in they did what I said, paid the fee, and had enough of a tip for me to do a quick show for the bachelor. This is when the best man informs me of what the bachelor was wearing UNDER his pants: remote controlled, vibrating, black thong underwear. I giggled and wanted to see this for myself. Sure enough when I got him undressed in front of his friends, there was a vibrating thong that barely covered anything. The buzzing of the vibrator kept going off as his hysterically laughing friends kept mashing on the buttons of the remote from the couch. The bachelor nervously giggled and tried hiding what he could with his hands. I only kept this public humiliation up for a few minutes since he obviously wasn’t having fun trying to hold himself into the tiny thong. Luckily the best man tipped more so he could have more private time sans thong.

The last party was a tame group of guys staying in a suite. The best man/brother of the groom apparently was a rookie at planning bachelor parties and had gone online to order a bunch of party supplies, but ended up getting all of the items a bachelorETTE party would have. This usually entails of anything and everything with a penis on it. You’ll see these girls parading up and down the Strip with their penis straws and blinking penis necklaces. So I guess the brother went online and didn’t see vagina shaped supplies so he figured the penis shaped items would be okay instead. I almost died laughing when I saw these exact slippers on the floor. In the bathroom was toilet paper with sex positions on it and on the bar were penis shaped cocktail stirrers. The girl with me could not stop giggling which was contagious for me and I couldn’t stop. The best man didn’t get it until we explained what the penis items are REALLY for. He said, “Well, I couldn’t find much else!” I’m sure he’ll be better prepared the next time he helps throw a party.

So one of the largest conventions of the season is in town, though you’d never know it: the National Association Of Broadcasters convention. It has always been a weird one since people seem to go to bed super early. I thought I had written about it before, but apparently I hadn’t said much about it but it tends to mark the end of the spring convention festivity. This spring has been more of a roller coaster than before and February was awesome (and even the casinos were up then for the first time in a few years), but the conventions have been noticeably absent and even the bachelor parties have gone down in number. What’s the reason for all of this? Some blame the economy, some blame Obama’s comments about Las Vegas several times in the media, and some blame Vegas for not offering enough to the tourists on a budget since not everyone can buy a $400 bottle of Skyy vodka and a Gucci purse.

Usually during the spring it’s nothing but bachelor parties on the weekends and conventioneers Sunday-Thursday. I’m not a huge fan of the bachelor parties since the return on your time is quite low (and a lot of parties just don’t work out) but I like to at least have the option of going to a call to try to work something out. Starting this Sunday, the Rehab pool party reopens at Hard Rock and the level of calls tend to go up on Sunday nights when the pool season starts. Sunday turns from a relaxed night to see clients to wilder than Friday night. It’s quite amusing.

Last year I was waiting for a client to answer his phone so I could go upstairs on a Sunday Rehab party night. I was watching all of the people sunkissed and having fun in the hallways as the party was winding down, but within 5 minutes of sitting down to wait I had a drink spilled on me by one drunk guy, another guy tried yanking my arm like I was his property, and one guy yelled at me like a kid because I wouldn’t let him use my cell phone. I couldn’t help but laugh at the circus show.

Oh by the way, thanks for all of your votes on the fetish poll! I’ll see about a new schoolgirl uniform and maybe work down my list

I hardly think so, but apparently to one girl it was her claim last night.

Had an appointment at a hotel with two other girls last night, one of which I’ve known for over a year and the other one I recognized from several years ago but don’t know as well. We arrived, collected a referral fee, and started talking about what they wanted to do. All three were international visitors and kept going on and on about how American girls are so surgical. How we don’t kiss and have so many rules we might as well be nurses with surgical gloves. I giggled at the statement and the main guy in charge then exclaimed, “So that’s why… we are going out to PARTY! It’s much better.. you girls like shopping? We can do that too!” The girl I know well, Corinne, started practically squeeling, “Oh please! I want to shop! Let’s figure things out before we go” and so the negotiations began…. and went on and on. I think the main guy used to sell used cars 30 years ago because he negotiated like one. Finally a cash advance is done and things are settled.

We go down to valet and look at the clock, it’s 10:40 and the Forum Shops close at 11. We some how grab a chartered SUV to take us quickly and the head guy says once we are in gridlock traffic on the Strip, “Aww sorry ladies looks like we wont make it.” Corinne squeels from the back of the Escalade, “No! We HAVE to go shopping! Oh it makes my pussy wet! I mean, as soon as I walk into Louis Vuitton I am DRIPPING.” Wow. I try to hold back my laughter since I have never heard her talk so frankly before, but deep down I know she has her items picked out in her head to get. The customer paused, “Well then we need to get moving!” and we hop out on the Strip and practically run to keep up with Corinne plowing down the sidewalk to the shop entrance. Somehow we made it in time, 2 minutes to spare for a quick shopping spree.

I mentioned in my Twitter a hint to planning a bachelor party: don’t book your party to stay on the same floor as your future wife’s bachelorette party. Seems like pretty common sense right? Well apparently some people aren’t born with such gifts! I got a call around 2AM to go to Circus Circus from an agency that usually books from referrals only. I pull in, the phone girl verifies the client is in the room, and I get the room number to go up. As I get into the elevator, two girls dressed up for the night (yet minus their heels as so many Vegas girls end up doing from walking all night in new heels and have untrained feet) pushes their way into the elevator as the doors closed. One was drunkenly babbling about being mad at her boyfriend, and I really wasn’t paying attention until I heard one of the drunken girls say, “What room is he in? I’m gonna KILL him if there is someone in there!!” and proceeds to ramble out the exact room number I am going to. Oh lord. I double-check my phone to make sure that the long room number matches, and it definitely does. I’m stuck and can’t hit another floor number since I was first on, so I had to think of some sort of plan to not seem obvious.

The doors open and the girls barge their way out first and go towards the room but are met in the hall by two guys. I didn’t even really look down to that end of the hall, but I turned the other direction going towards some random room while fake fumbling through my purse. After fumbling for a minute I pick up my phone and call the service as I hear one of the girls at the end yelling, “I HATE YOU. I can’t trust you for anything! I wanna go in there… I know you got some hooker in your room!” I explained to the phone girl what was going on and she called the room. Yelling was still going on but the guy who answered the phone explained it was just him in the room and the argument was with his brother outside. I kept fumbling for an imaginary room key while talking and noticed the two drunken girls were now stomping towards me. Oh crap. They were still a ways off but had definitely passed their turn off to the elevator. I spoke a little louder on the phone, “Really, I have NO idea where the hell I put my key. I’m looking everywhere!”

The girls got about 5-10 feet away and I heard the more sober one mumble, “You don’t know if she is…” but pulled the angry drunken friend back when she heard me blabbing about my lost key. I looked up just in time to give some confused look, still babbling on the phone, and watch them head back to the elevators. Whew!

The girls eventually get on the elevators after yelling a few more incoherent things to the two guys, and I wander back down the hall towards the two guys and elevators (come to find out was the bachelor and father of the groom-to-be). I met them in the middle and said, “Wow I don’t know what that was but who called?” and they explain the entertainment is for the brother in the room, who apparently has been single for years and spent too much at the club for dances. This was a surprise for him, but since the bachelor and brother share a room the bride-to-be thought there was some hanky panky going on with the bachelor, not the future brother-in-law.
In the end? The call worked out fine with the brother (no angry drunken girl interruptions), and he made the whole mess clear to me. Come to find out the bachelorette party and bachelor party were doing their activities separately, but some smart member of the family had booked everything on the same floor in the hotel. So the bachelor was going to strip clubs, while the bachelorette was getting drunk and creating conspiracies that had her believing her fiancé was banging hookers back in the room.  I wonder how that marriage will turn out!

I was fairly pleased with the outcome of CES this year. It was so slow before then that I was starting to worry about the start of the new year. I know that in years past when I have been here for CES I was quite disappointed, but this year it put a little pep in my step.

I had noticed a ton more girls freelancing in the casinos and the variety that seems sort of out of place for the usual Vegas prostitutes. I had some image in my head of a venturesome group of pimps in Southern California who thought it would be a good idea to pack up their girls in airport shuttle vans and take them all to Las Vegas for the convention weekend and drop them off.  Another thing I wondered as I watched two girls walking around in matching gold hot pants/romper outfits who were definitely porn stars, was “How many of these porn star girls or porn groupies get arrested by vice because they are being overly sexual yet breaking no laws?”  Haven’t heard or read any figures on that one but if I do I will definitely post them.  I am sure there are quite a few mix-ups and the porn girls get mistaken for prostitutes.

So I had posted an update on my Twitter about being amazed at people who are so in the dark about basic sexual education or human interaction. The client was a conventioneer visiting from a New England state but had moved to the US from India 7 years ago.  He first started by replying to my greeting of, “Hi, How are you?” with, “How much are your services”? Since I was there for an agency I had to slow him down, collect the agency fee first, and then move on from there. He reluctantly gave me the fee since he assumed I was having sex for the agencies money. Then after he stripped down and I stripped down he was all over me like a kid in a candy store. I had to calm him down since he was getting way too carried away, grabbing forcefully, and looked like he was about to lick me like a dog.  He calmed down, apologized for being excited (which is okay of course!), got to talking about entertainment and what budget he wanted to work with.  Right off the bat he was asking for almost two hours of full service for barely over what the company was making (which I think was around $100). I said I would be more than happy to please him but his demands were way off. He finally understood why his money wasn’t buying so much but said that was okay, he liked me too much for me to go.

Excellent!

So I excused myself to the restroom and he followed me saying, “Do you have to pee? Can I watch? I want to see!” and was forcing the bathroom door open as I was trying to close it. I explained that would not be included with what he paid, he sighed and went back to the room. After I finished, I told him it was his turn to clean up since his terrible comb over was matted with oil from not washing it and deemed a good rinse off.

So… as for the actual entertainment it went quickly and was minimal, but what got me afterwards were his questions. This poor guy was completely lost. He first asked me about my “vagina”, as he put it politely. He asked, “Where do girls pee from? Is that what the clitoris is for? I have heard about it feeling good”.  I was shocked but didn’t want to make him feel bad for being uneducated and explained what the clitoris was for and how we peed from underneath. His next question was about dating. He asked, “How do I date? What do girls like?”  I had to answer this question carefully because he was in desperate need of a haircut (I say shave it all off don’t mess with what little hair you have left!), had a huge long beard I could tell was tucked like most Indian men who are Sikh (but he claimed he wasn’t), and needed some brow trimming (had one brow, not two!). I told him he should go out, find someone good, and treat himself to a day of pampering. I told him girls like guys who are confident and who take care of themselves so treat yourself well and maybe get a new more confident look. He was happy with my suggestions and went on to ask, “So where do I find dates?”  I kind of giggled at the question but really had no clue.  I only gave him the suggestion of staying away from bars and he thought maybe the internet would be better.

Did I mention this guy was almost 40?

It shocked me at the time that he would be so uneducated and opened my eyes more to how other cultures treat sex education as a sin and avoid it almost completely. Hope my suggestions helped!