Musical Chairs

Have you ever played musical chairs? Now take that memory and think about the object of the game. The music plays, and stops and people get knocked out of each round until there's one person left sitting in the only available seat. Hooking is advanced musical chairs.

Instead of removing chairs the available prostitutes are the ones meticulously being taken out of rotation. All the while the jukebox blares out the chosen songs of the lady who has hustled the money to keep it going. When the jukebox goes silent each lady snaps into action, and rotates among available men to ask, "Would you like to donate to our jukebox?"

This is either received with a handful of cash, or in the seldom and most random occasion a flat out "no". When there's customers in the parlor the best bet is to keep the music going, it breaks the tension and provides a rhythm to the night that keeps the girls who wait on the sidelines focused and provides cover to the conversation of the active hustlers.

On a good night when there's more customers than girls it's a frequent event to watch the ladies dance on the brass stripper pole at the far end of the parlor, this usually garners attention, and even better tips.

The jukebox is the centerpiece of the parlor. It lights up and pulsates to the beat of the music and can download almost any song you desire. After having lived in this brothel for over three months it is common knowledge that the jukebox does not sleep and can wake you from yours at any moment, all kinds of music passes through the speakers and everyone who works here has a signature song. Whether it be something they dance to or something that speaks to them so much that every chance they get they hustle a dollar to hear it, the music of the night reins supreme in the world of brothel prostitution.

It took me a while to find my stride. In those first couple of weeks I sat and watched more like a patient observer, trying to take in the intricacies of the game. Those around me never saw me drink or dance.  Both of which are common occurrences among the girls that work here, some favor one or the other, and they are often done together.

It happened in the middle of the day of that first month living in the brothel, when nothing was going on, I think it was a Sunday. I wanted to groove to my own beat in the parlor while no one was around. So what musical artist could I turn to?...Marvin Gaye.

I deposited my dollar bill into the jukebox and let Mr. Gaye's "Got To Give It Up" flow out of the speakers. A song that I doubt had ever been played in the parlor before. Since the themes of most nights are popular rap and country, with some occasional rock mixed in.

If you ever look up the lyrics they seem quite fitting to my situation at the time, I myself could never really get down, or at least not all too often. My self-conscious nature impeded many years of uninhibited dance. Unless alcohol was involved, I had not dropped that bomb just yet.

I danced the length of the parlor, grooving to the music. Another girl showed up in the middle and joined in, then our manager stood at the perimeter watching the impromptu dance party that lasted the length of the song.  It was a lazy day that needed much merriment added to it.

Since then every time I'm in the parlor and the we have the jukebox pulsating, someone plays "Got To Give It Up". It's my song. Sometimes I hear one of the girls yell out, "dance for us Juniper", but I still reserve that for rare occasions.

Everyone has a song here, and when some of the girls leave us to go back to civilization we play their song like a siren call, a reminder of who is still with us in spirit of the nightly game, waiting for them to come back to work so they too can really get down.