The Las Vegas Courtesan

Really? Does the county really have that much time and spare tax dollars to deal with cracking down on this?

This has been going on for a while now in the news first with an article back in April and now with another man who has been denied a license to operate – literally next to the the Green Door – is suing the county for damages of $75,000. He states the county rejected his license over the 45 day approval period and that they are enforcing their codes with discrimination since there are obviously other businesses in the same complex operating with similar licenses.

With the first story I was glad that the manager of the Power Exchange is trying to fight the legislation that says that these clubs are a public nuisance. The man involved in the second story unfortunately I think has quite a fight against the county. First of all,  he could have waited to start his improvements to the aging building  until after his license was approved, but also at the same time there shouldn’t have been an issue since this unit originally housed the Green Door and was using the same licenses as other clubs in the area. Secondly, I think there is discrimination all the time with the county and how they enforce their codes and giving one business favor against another and then claiming the reason why the Green Door is still in business is because they haven’t caught them “in the act”. Really? Either way I don’t think that these clubs should be harassed so much, and see no issue with the businesses being in operation since they generally promote safe sex practices and provide a safe way for people to explore their sexuality (each room usually had a monitor of some sort to make sure no one is being forced or uninvited into a sexual act.)

In the end what makes me really mad is the statement of the law saying that sex clubs are a “public nuisance.”  I could think of a lot more things in this city that are a public nuisance than these clubs. If you go to the East Sahara Commercial Center that is mentioned, and where a lot of the clubs are located, you will never see people outside causing a problem nor will you hear loud music or noise coming from the clubs. People aren’t running around outside wearing leather and chains, screaming, and having sex either (though that sounds kind of fun!)  So really what defines these places as being so bothersome?? I have also never seen the cops called out to these places or acts of vandalism occurring outside, but where I have seen a lot of these problems are at the “spa clubs” and parlors that I talked about in this entry I wrote. I know of a a few agencies not too far from these clubs and the cops are called out several times a night due to clients being angry and violent, pulling out guns, or these places being robbed. I have also witnessed damage to the building/windows of these places due to drive-by brick or stone throwing most likely caused by clients or other rival clubs. These places definitely ARE a public nuisance and only make my job as a sex worker in Las Vegas more difficult. I constantly have to prove myself to the men who are ripped off by these joints that I am different and will provide a service, not a hand and ear massage.

Like a reader said in one of the comments on the Las Vegas Sun, Sin City is turning into the place where tourists come to get ripped off and giving our town a bad name. The county commission is once again trying to make Las Vegas into a kind of Disneyland, just like Vegas tried in the early 90’s – an attempt that failed miserably. I think the commission should do their job and find the real public nuisances of our town – the places that are ripping tourists off – not crack down on the sex clubs which are clearly not ripping anyone off or forcing anyone to do something against their own will. Those patrons are all 100% consenting adults exploring the sexuality, which, like it or not Clark County Commission, is one huge reason people come to Las Vegas. Give Las Vegas the sin it deserves and is known for or there is no reason for the tourists to keep coming back. It definitely makes my job a lot harder if no one comes here.

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 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!