The Las Vegas Courtesan

It’s seems like it’s more rare for me to be asked something new or to have a call go a different way than the many before. I always like the calls that surprise me and break up the monotony of this job (believe it or not it can get quite boring!) I went on a call in the afternoon at Planet Hollywood. The phone girl had a story before I went in. For the record I don’t like story–telling time before I go on calls because that means there is some excuse or convoluted situation that I have to work around instead of an easy “Here’s the info,” now go upstairs and make money.  The story was the guy in the room does not know I am coming and was booked by another friend as I surprise, but the guy who booked left money in the room for me. Left money in the room for me? Where? How does he know what to leave? I’m assuming he only left the company fee in the room and I’m going on a treasure hunt just to find it. Then this creates an awkward situation for me when I have to explain, “Yea that money your friend left doesn’t go to me, I strip for that, anything else you must pay for,” which sounds like a total bummer of a surprise. This whole mental conversation takes note before I ask the phone girl, “Left money for me? Where? Did the friend know how this works?” She says, “He said he’s been to Vegas before and I have no idea about the location of the money.” See, this is why I don’t like story time before calls.

I go upstairs and knock. Guy has a surprised look on his face, but is on the phone when I come in. He finishes his business conversation while handing me the folded piece of paper marked, “Give this to delivery guy.” Inside is the company fee, nothing more. See, this is what I feared! He finally gets off the phone and I said, “Surprise! I’m your delivery!” he was definitely shocked and yet happy (some surprises have sort of panicked and declined.) He said, “My brother said I had a delivery for my birthday, but I had no idea!” He goes to his computer bag and pulls out a card that says on the front, “Open this when delivery guy gets there.” I cross my fingers that some sort of tip is in there from brother-of-the-year. He asks, “Should I open this now? He said to when you got here.” Yes yes YES! He does, and thankfully a decent tip is in there. Brother scores some points for knowing really how this works and not $30 in an envelope. The now shaking birthday boy says, “Man, I need a drink. So I get to have fun with you now, naked?” Yes, and then some.

Here’s the real surprise to me, this whole time I thought the brother was staying in Vegas as well, but in a different room or different hotel. Come to find out he wasn’t even in the US. The brother had stopped by his house the night before and stuffed the card and message in his laptop bag, then informed him of it later. That was one talented planning job, and probably more than any other call before.

Every so often I get emails, comments on Twitter, or read comments on articles that I was featured in that really come across as hateful or in general sex worker bashing. (Oh, like that’s really anything new.) Of course everyone is entitled to their own opinion of prostitution and I respect that 1st Amendment right, however, it seems that since I am a sex worker then I am not entitled to my own opinion or to share my point of view of my line of work with others. Like I glorify it on here only speaking half truths, and maybe I really must hate myself, have Daddy issues, and was really forced into this line of work. Well, none of that’s true (I know the cynics will be disappointed!)

Since I stay up quite late at night, I typically wake up in time for lunch and sometimes eat out at places frequented by local corporate workers in their lunch breaks. I sit in a booth or table nearby and can’t help but hearing their ongoing, mundane conversations. Sometimes I don’t want to hear them, but that’s just too bad because I will be subjected to the woman bellowing out her latest bellyache about some other female employee or some other random drama back at the office. I sit there and I think to myself, is this what the average, anti-sex worker person wants me to do? Be just as miserable as this woman at her boring, dead-end corporate job? Who can’t even relax at a nice lunch for an hour and talk about anything else, maybe even something that’s nice and pleasant? I mean these people I listen to are average Joe corporate America with a “real” job where they go to some office for a set number of hours a day for a set number of days a week. All they can go on about is how they can screw over their boss or company (or government), instead of relaxing during that one hour off to eat. I sit there and think to myself, “If I had that job I would be so miserable and feel so trapped,” and yet in my current job I don’t ever feel that way. I don’t feel trapped, I don’t feel miserable, and I can’t beat making my own shedule. I know “they” all want me to feel that way, or “they” want me to come out and admit that my life is a wreck, but it isn’t, and I won’t ever let it be that way. Of course I have friends that really enjoy their jobs at corporations and the line of work they are in, and I am happy for anyone else who enjoys their job at the same type of place… It’s just not for me.

I had talked previously in a post about the dark side of prostitution and how it sickens me what people to do others with trafficking. There definitely are girls that need to be helped and pimps that need to be prosecuted for forcing anyone into prostitution. Yes, there is a dark side to this business, but there are dark sides to a lot of other businesses too. I recently read somewhere in a news article that the “happy hooker” is just a myth and it’s all a lie. No matter what we are all “victims” of “the game” (I really hate that term!) Sorry, but the girls I know are definitely not a myth and are not miserable. So please go help those who need the help (I would even like to help too), but don’t group us all into the category of being trapped or wanting out. I’m happy right where I am for now, and I can do whatever I want when I so chose.

 At last, some nice brothels! Patiently people have been waiting for me to say, “Oh this place is awesome! Everyone should visit here!” Finally, that moment has come.

Storey County is located only 15 or so miles outside of Reno-Sparks (and near the Washoe County line) on the Interstate 80. The World Famous Mustang Ranch and Wild Horse Adult Resort and Spa are the closest brothels to the second largest city in the state. I, like most people, get confused about the locations and proximities of the other famous ranches in northern Nevada, such as the Bunny Ranch, and assume that they are closer to Reno than Carson City. Mustang Ranch and Wild Horse are definitely the closest and by far the nicest brothels on my tour.

The first actual billboard sign I saw for the brothels (and only sort of advertising I had seen in the state) was right outside of Winnemucca. I think the signs were mostly for the World Famous Mustang Ranch and urged truckers and the like to stop in and stay a while. You can’t miss these two brothels at night because of the hundred or so affixed old-school red police car lights on top of the roofs of the brothels. You can sort of see these crazy lights on the roof in the pictures of the Wild Horse. Though the houses are a little distance from the south side of the freeway, they are easy to see and signs help direct you there with no problem. A nice guard greets you at the front entrance to the property, and as you drive in you notice both ranches share a parking lot so it’s easy to walk from one to the other. I started at the Mustang Ranch first then strolled across to Wild Horse to check them both out… I was happy to finally find quality brothels.

 

I have been looking forward to visiting the Mustang Ranch brothel for years. I don’t recall when exactly I had read the book “Brothel: Mustang Ranch and Its Women” by Alexa Albert, but I was really intrigued with it all. When I read it I hadn’t known the whole story to the final days of the Ranch with the previous owners, the federal racketeering cases, and the involvement of Joe Conforte. I also didn’t know that the brothel was reopening and had moved since the book had been written. I just wanted to visit the place and see what it was really like for myself. Finally that day had come on my tour! I originally had the address in my notes as the original location, about five miles north and on the opposite side of the freeway. After some research I had found out it was moved to the present location along with the owner’s other project, the Wild Horse Spa and Brothel.

I decided to go into the Mustang first. You are buzzed in through the front door and walk into a huge area that has a bar, tables, and is decorated like a garden with water fountains, trellises, and flowering vines. The ceiling is painted like the sky, which is a little cheesy, but was a nice change to the dingy entrances I had been in so far on the tour. Five to six girls were sitting around chatting in this area at the various tables and gave a friendly hello as I walked in. I sat at the bar for a minute and got the feeling that they don’t do line-ups here so much as you find the lady of your choice in this lounge area (there didn’t really seem to be an “area” for line-ups, either). At this time a girl pretty girl walked up, introduced herself and offered to give a tour… and what a grand tour it was.

She explained how all of the wings that branched off from the middle bar area were a part of the original Mustang Ranch owned by Joe Conforte and was air lifted to this location by the present owners. She said that they didn’t have some sort of permit or permission to do this move, and was subsequently fined $1 million by the state or county (although I can’t seem to verify this statement.)  I asked her, “Do they train you to know all of this information for the tours?” She explained that when you first come to the brothel they have a house book that explains rules, regulations, and history to tell clients on the tours. Interesting!

There are four VIP suites and four wings, but I’m not sure how many regular rooms they had for the girls.  With each hallway there is an iron gate restricting access with security codes, surveillance cameras, and sensors. One of the most original suites I saw was what she called the “Pretty Princess Suite”. Painted in pastel purple and other girly colors, she explained it was for guys with fetishes and couples. Another suite was dubbed the Safari room with a huge tub that had the faucet pour from the ceiling, sauna, and a large bed. She explained some clients get this room since it’s comfortable for an overnight stay with the lady of their choice. The other two suites were Asian themed and Hawaiian themed. I forget which room had the largest bed, but it was two California Kings pushed together. She said the largest party she had seen was about 15 guys who each had a girl on every area of the large bed… wow. You could tell the owners had spent a fortune on the nice furniture in every suite. No expense was spared in making this place look nice. There was also a Kama Sutra chair and a huge bondage bean bag in these rooms, and I think every suite also had a stage and stripper pole on the side. I didn’t see the bondage/dominatrix room, but apparently it is attached to a room that is a tribute to Joe and Sally Conforte (and isn’t generally open to the public on the tour.)

Similar to the brothels in Winnemucca, the Mustang Ranch has several negotiation rooms. In these rooms there are a few chairs, a side table with hand sanitizer, rubber gloves, wipes, and a lamp. Apparently this is also the room where any inspection of the genitals happens before any payment is made. The girl can discuss and agree on a price (there’s a $100 house minimum), but before she takes him to the cashier to pay and start time she must make sure the client passes inspection.

I really enjoyed the tour of this brothel and wish I could have spent more time here. I got a kick out of a little ghost story from my tour guide girl about how she had to move wings because of something “not feeling right” in her old room (other girls have had to move out of that hall as well). Another story of a client dying of a heart attack before she ever worked there, but ironically was not on the same hall that she felt was “haunted”. I had another haunting story told later to me from a girl at the Sagebrush Brothel. Maybe a cable channel should pick up a reality series about haunted brothels and the girls’ stories.

Out of all of the brothels, I think the Mustang Ranch would be the only one I would choose to work at if I ever decided to pursue the legal brothel route. Though the Wild Horse is also very nice, I liked the vibe from this brothel better.