The Las Vegas Courtesan

Archive for the ‘Hotels and Casinos’ Category

A Little Q&A Part III

Saturday, July 24th, 2010

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!

Awkward Bachelor Party Moments

Thursday, May 6th, 2010

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.

Something Is Missing During NAB

Wednesday, April 14th, 2010

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 🙂

Shopping – The Cure To Vaginal Dryness?

Wednesday, March 24th, 2010

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.

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