If there's any kind of advice I could give someone wanting to work in this industry it would be to make sure you're observant, that you pay attention to everything. I have a friend that tells me this all the time, he tells me to pay attention to everything. After having thought about it for...well months...it's true, to survive you must pay attention to everything. I could make this broader and extend the advice to life in general but I'm not thinking about taking over the world just yet.
Today it's about paying attention to your job and those around you in the brothel world. This job just isn't about fucking people, its about being observant enough to understand your client, to choose wisely and try to gain the most from those observations. We'll go back to the old saying of...Don't judge a book by its cover.
Those men that some girls find repulsive, those that look poor, are often sometimes the biggest pay offs in the business. Just because a man has Armani taste and a Jaguar in the parking lot doesn't mean he's going to pay you anymore than the minimum if at all. Those men are usually good for a round of drinks, a jukebox donation to keep the wolves at bay and then once his vodka and tonic kicks in he's down the cul-de-sac making the rounds, and as he slips out the door the shallow promise of "I'll be back..." glides into the air and lands on pessimistic ears.
Even just working here for a year it brings out the pessimist in me and all my coworkers of what someones word actually means. Honesty is for saints, not for hookers.
It's those you see in the crowd, the nervous and the nerds, the once a year vacation trick that spends, because they've saved up to do so, and they don't want anyone to hold back. They expect a good time for the amount they pay. They expect their kinky and closeted fantasies to come to life, and when the money is right they get what they want.
It's the observant ones that triumph in these situations. Its not just about the clients though, its about the whole picture, what information you can attain from all the things happening on the floor.
Your business is to know your client better than they do, and to know the girl sitting next to you, to know what role you're playing for the night, are you yourself, or are you the innocent country girl who knows how to screw sweet then dirty? It all depends on what you see in the night, in yourself, what role the others have adopted and its in your best advantage to try and fill in the gaps.
Beyond the floor there is the twisted maze of the house. Not only are you navigating a set of unwritten rules that keep the etiquette copacetic among you and the other girls but the house itself has rules.
Its the girls that blindly walk around waiting to be led by the hand that can't and wont survive this environment. You have to be with it so to speak and on your game if your not all your potential money goes down the drain. Some seem oblivious to repercussions of missed line ups and dirty hustling, but to each his own, you can log these actions but keeping your sanity means keeping to yourself and minding your business before all others, because there's no one who's going to hustle for you.
Thursday, July 7, 2011
The 25 Hour World
I haven't been loyal to you like how I've been loyal to my job or brothel. It's been months since I've posted anything and maybe it's because after a while you lose a little piece of yourself in this world of constant waiting, of 2am clients and early morning bloody marys.
I would like to tell you that the last few months have been nothing but roses and romance but this is reality and there's only one true word to describe the past months and that is...strange. There's no real way to paint a picture for you unless I maybe commissioned Dali's zombified corpse to do so...and that thought is pretty strange within itself.
So I'm going to do something I would rarely ever do and brush past those absent months and let them go because the past is the past. I know it must seem strange (there's the key word again) but it's for the better, and yes there's plenty of things that have happened that would make for witty and amusing anecdotes but maybe you just need to chalk it up as my missing years, like how there's that whole section of Jesus' life missing from the Bible.
So I'm going to cut to the chase, this strange world I'm mixed up in that never closes it's doors is only bound to get even stranger.
In the past month my brothel has to say the least not been doing well. There seems to be a real lack of clients and on top of that girls. Somehow this business that many still see as recession proof is just like all the retail outlets and video rental stores. It pains me to see it this way, I have a genuine love for this house and for the people that work here, but it has become increasingly hard to see the positive in what is seemingly on its last breath.
There is a kind of loneliness in the house these days. Barren rooms and quiet halls seem to stretch for miles as you escort the lucky few who still value a tour to see the VIP suites that are much more affordable than their illustrious titles. Not only is there a loneliness in the house but also for the girls. So many come and go so quickly because business is slow that it makes me wonder if I am just too loyal and foolhardy to see that its time to move on.
So tonight I'm sitting in the back of the parlor by the open window, and I'm looking out at the sunset over the hills of Moundhouse and I'm wondering what kind of life I'm missing, what kind of places and towns I should be driving through on a summer road trip, maybe there's a good bar with a house ale to die for I'm missing out on.
I think about all those things, they've been on my mind since the summer began, and I know that there's a lot more life to live than within the brothel walls...but today it's business as usual. I'm going to sit in front of this window until the moon is visible and wait for another lonely person to walk in the door, because when there's someone else there the quiet halls aren't so bad.
This isn't just about the lack of people hanging around these days. There's a lot more going on in these 24 hour worlds, and the sign outside my window jokingly promotes that we're open for 25, my day just got longer it seems. I stare at the sign as girls names flash in red. Girls that I knew, legends to the house, and among the mix is my own, and I wonder if in the 25 hour world there is any glory or fame to having such promotion. Most people think my name is Jennifer because they've never even heard Juniper, or maybe my annunciation is a little off when I introduce myself. There's always something to work on.
I know there's a lot of questions here, and many for me are rhetorical. I even know the answer to some, but its just not the right time to see the answer in print. I was always told in school that its good to ask questions. That that's how we learn. I think it is the questions that we ask ourselves the ones we can only answer, they are the scariest and most important ones of all.
These days I find it harder to sleep and that the constant rotation of pork and chicken meals at the ranch is killing my sense of taste. What's still good is beer, I look forward to my shifts end, because I know there's a beer waiting for me behind some local bar. That's the beauty of this 25 hour world, your vices never have to sleep either.
I would like to tell you that the last few months have been nothing but roses and romance but this is reality and there's only one true word to describe the past months and that is...strange. There's no real way to paint a picture for you unless I maybe commissioned Dali's zombified corpse to do so...and that thought is pretty strange within itself.
So I'm going to do something I would rarely ever do and brush past those absent months and let them go because the past is the past. I know it must seem strange (there's the key word again) but it's for the better, and yes there's plenty of things that have happened that would make for witty and amusing anecdotes but maybe you just need to chalk it up as my missing years, like how there's that whole section of Jesus' life missing from the Bible.
So I'm going to cut to the chase, this strange world I'm mixed up in that never closes it's doors is only bound to get even stranger.
In the past month my brothel has to say the least not been doing well. There seems to be a real lack of clients and on top of that girls. Somehow this business that many still see as recession proof is just like all the retail outlets and video rental stores. It pains me to see it this way, I have a genuine love for this house and for the people that work here, but it has become increasingly hard to see the positive in what is seemingly on its last breath.
There is a kind of loneliness in the house these days. Barren rooms and quiet halls seem to stretch for miles as you escort the lucky few who still value a tour to see the VIP suites that are much more affordable than their illustrious titles. Not only is there a loneliness in the house but also for the girls. So many come and go so quickly because business is slow that it makes me wonder if I am just too loyal and foolhardy to see that its time to move on.
So tonight I'm sitting in the back of the parlor by the open window, and I'm looking out at the sunset over the hills of Moundhouse and I'm wondering what kind of life I'm missing, what kind of places and towns I should be driving through on a summer road trip, maybe there's a good bar with a house ale to die for I'm missing out on.
I think about all those things, they've been on my mind since the summer began, and I know that there's a lot more life to live than within the brothel walls...but today it's business as usual. I'm going to sit in front of this window until the moon is visible and wait for another lonely person to walk in the door, because when there's someone else there the quiet halls aren't so bad.
This isn't just about the lack of people hanging around these days. There's a lot more going on in these 24 hour worlds, and the sign outside my window jokingly promotes that we're open for 25, my day just got longer it seems. I stare at the sign as girls names flash in red. Girls that I knew, legends to the house, and among the mix is my own, and I wonder if in the 25 hour world there is any glory or fame to having such promotion. Most people think my name is Jennifer because they've never even heard Juniper, or maybe my annunciation is a little off when I introduce myself. There's always something to work on.
I know there's a lot of questions here, and many for me are rhetorical. I even know the answer to some, but its just not the right time to see the answer in print. I was always told in school that its good to ask questions. That that's how we learn. I think it is the questions that we ask ourselves the ones we can only answer, they are the scariest and most important ones of all.
These days I find it harder to sleep and that the constant rotation of pork and chicken meals at the ranch is killing my sense of taste. What's still good is beer, I look forward to my shifts end, because I know there's a beer waiting for me behind some local bar. That's the beauty of this 25 hour world, your vices never have to sleep either.
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