Is prostitution legal in Las Vegas?

Contrary to the popular believe-NO. It is a felony offence,punishable by fines and jail term.
If the girl caught and charged with solicitation of prostitution 3 times, she is banned from the Strip.
It is not as simple as it sounds, as “banned” means not allowed to be on the Strip (Las Vegas Blvd) or within half a mile vicinity of it for ANY purpose whatsoever.
As there are a lot of shops,restaurants and even a church on the Strip and one simply needs to cross it in order to travel through town, this ban will effectively lock the girl out of Las Vegas (unless she wants to hang out in suburbs), which is what the purpose of it is.
Prostitution is alive and well, however and is a thriving business in Las Vegas. There are about 120 pages of various “escorts” listed in the phone book-about as many as there are lawyers.
When you call those numbers, you will be informed that the “escort” is for companionship and lap dancing only. If you imply sex for money, they will tell that it is “illegal”.
The fee quoted (usually about $120) only covers the girl showing up. ALL of it goes to the agency. The girl negotiates with the client fees for services on her own, assuming all the risks. So what looks like $120 deal to a punter soon becomes about $300-$3000 deal and anything in between.
This causes problems sometimes, as clients don’t understand how it works and become upset.
Once,when I worked for outcall escort agency, I was directed to a room in Bally’s hotel. In there I found a young man from my agency and a client. Apparently, client wanted to cross dress and be with a man ( for the first time,he claimed) and also wanted to have sex with me and watch myself and the other male escort have sex as well.
We collected $120 a piece for us turning up (so the client was out of pocket $240 so far) and proceeded to negotiate the price. We wanted $400 each on the top of the agency fee (of which, I remind you,we were getting nothing).
I think client was a bit stoned as well, as he just didn’t seem to get the concept. He proceeded to dress into a lacy thong and a bra and topped it off with a pair of white patent leather thigh-high boots with 10″ heels.
Then he wanted some “action”.
Again, we told him we need the $$$ first. He went belligerent. Male escort and I fled the room with the client chasing us half way down the elevator (in the above described getup), until he gave up and just threw one of his boots after us.
A lot of men (even those from US) do not understand that prostitution is not legal in Vegas. After all, it is the “Sin City”.
From time to time vice squad sets up traps to catch men soliciting (usually on the streets with decoys pretending to be street walkers). It is a $1000 fine and the arrest and conviction goes on your record (very embarrassing).
Vice routinely sets up operations to catch the girls. They go into clubs and pretend to be paying customers, they go into hotels and ring for escorts..
There is no entrapment law in Las Vegas-it means that if you ask the guy directly “Are you a police officer” he can say “No” and still arrest you later. Vice guys are also allowed to drink alcohol during sting operations to make it look “authentic”.
All this makes it very stressful for the girl, as you constantly have to judge the situation not only for “regular” dangers that come with the job, but for potential vice trap as well.
It’s a tricky business, as prostitution by definition is “sex in exchange for money”, which means that if you just want to go with the customer from the club to his hotel room and fuck him for free, no charge can be laid against you (except,maybe, a “stupid slut”, but that’s not a punishable offence 🙂
So if a club client would express interest in “something more”, I would play semantics with him, saying that it will “involve a token of appreciation” instead of just quoting the price. Most punters got it and everything would be sorted, however I avoided those who stubbornly insisted on talking about money- I just didn’t want to take any risks.
I did get arrested once. It was an outcall from an agency into an off-Strip hotel. The place was newly build, but definitely second-rate.
I should have known something was up when the guy asked me if I wanted something to drink and when I replied “Water,please”, he poured tepid water from the tap.
We negotiated the deal and I was sitting on his lap,half-naked with him happily sucking on my tits (oh,yeah, vice takes every advantage of the perks of the job). Suddenly, 2 more guys walked in. I knew at that point that it’s probably a trap, but they insisted that they are just “friends” and could they get the same “deal” later. I just said “Whatever” and then they produced their shields and went on with arrest.
They wanted to get me on as many counts as they could-thus 3 of them (3 counts of solicitation of prostitution). They also searched through my bag and even ripped off the lining looking for drugs (that would be a nice bonus for them).
I calmly explained to them that I don’t do drugs and their search is in vain.
They were quite surprised at my composure, saying that normally girls started crying and begging to be let go, to which I replied that I am an adult and well aware of possible consequences of my chosen profession. I asked them “If I cry and beg, would you let me go?” They said “No”. “So what’s the point of wasting all that energy?”. We actually ended up having a nice chat: they even showed me their surveillance equipment in the next room and didn’t handcuff me when they escorted me out of hotel into their car.
I had to spend the night in a crowded cell in Clark County Detention Center with benches lining the walls, toilet right smack in the middle of it and another half a dozen women. It stank (literally).
I’ve met some interesting women in there,though. One was this regal looking black woman who attended the Presidential Inauguration in the year past. She was brought in for “assault”-she had a heated argument with another woman in a parking lot of a grocery store that ended in a fistfight.
Another was scared looking young girl who amassed over $1200 in parking tickets and couldn’t pay them because she didn’t have a job. Ironically, this was her first week on a very plum job as a blackjack dealer at New York New York hotel. She was pulled over in the parking lot for speeding over allocated 20m/h as she didn’t want to be late for work.Of course,they immediately saw all the outstanding unpaid tickets on their computer. She probably lost the job.
The whole incident cost me about $1800 for a lawyer/fines and another $800 5 years later to “seal” the record of arrest.

Sometimes things turned just plain funny. Like when I was dancing as a stripper in Olympic Gardens and this guy walked in at about 3 in the afternoon.
Club wasn’t at all busy and I approached him and asked if he wants a dance. He immediately agreed, to my delight (no small talk and time wasting).
I sat him down in a booth and started a lap dance when the next song started. Imagine my surprise when I sat on his lap to do “the grind” (with my back towards him) and realised that he unzipped his pants and had his dick out! (that was about 30 seconds into the song).
“What the hell are you doing”??! I asked. He seemed genuinely puzzled. “I want to have sex”..pause…
I had to explain to him that’s it’s illegal, and,anyway,in the middle of a strip club is hardly the place. Not to mention $20 REALLY wouldn’t cover it.
He suggested we immediately go to his hotel..
I was laughing so hard, tears were coming down from my eyes. Turns out,he really thought that he could  just pop into a club in Las Vegas for a “quickie” or go in and select a girl for his pleasure and take her with him (kind of like a grocery store)!
He was quite shocked at the prices as well.
Prostitution IS LEGAL in Nye County-about 45 min drive from Las Vegas in a little town called Pahramp.
That’s where world’s famous “Chicken Ranch” and “Sherry’s Ranch” brothels are. There are few more a little further down towards Reno.
I worked in there as well, but that’s a whole other story 🙂

Punters’ funny (and not so funny) quirks.

There are things clients do that us,working girls absolutely cannot understand and are very annoying. The list is endless, but let’s talk about most common ones 🙂

-Touching girl’s hair. I have no idea why guys feel the need to do this, but about 80% of clients try at some point during the booking touch WL’s hair. I know long hair is sexy, BUT I always pull  mine back before doing a blow job,as it gets in the way AND punters will actually try to move it to SEE you blowing them. So why do they keep touching it?
Because of this I was never able to wear wigs for this work (I wore them all the time when I worked in restaurants)-inevitably the wig got shifted/pulled off.
The reason we don’t like the whole “hair touching” routine is because often times punters want to do this in the middle of the booking, when their hands are sticky with lube and other staff.. And, NO, we don’t wash/blow dry/style our hair after every booking.

-Trying to stick their fingers as far up girl’s pussy as they can. Who do you think you are-Christopher Columbus?? What are you trying to discover in there?? There is no buried treasure, I assure you. In fact,it’s very unpleasant and often painful.

-Asking the girl “What do you like”. We are professionals, we do this for a living, it’s a JOB. Yes, some girls do actually enjoy sex with the clients (but even they give up when doing 3-8 bookings daily). Personally, I never enjoy it,and the possibility of me actually having an orgasm with the client is negligible (me being a lesbian is  part of it).Once I worked in a parlour where there was this really hot gay receptionist-I was absolutely consumed with lust (she had no idea) and was wet and horny pretty much all the time. So when I went into a booking, I was practically half-way to orgasm as it was. STILL, no punter was able to get me off, even under those circumstances when I would close my eyes and have all sorts of naughty/unsavory images involving me and said receptionist floating through my head…
However, we play into client’s fantasy and provide him with what he needs. After all, he came in and paid good money to satisfy his urges/needs. So relax and get your rocks off! Don’t worry about what I like-it’s irrelevant under the circumstances. My reply usually is: “I like $100 bills and puppy dogs. Have you got one of those? It will make me very happy”.

-Slapping girl’s pussy. That MUST come from watching all that porn. It does absolutely nothing for the girl and I can hardly see what the purpose of it is.

-Rubbing girl’s clit directly,vigorously and extensively. Clit is very sensitive. It shouldn’t even be approached directly at first. Putting your rough fingers with ragged edged nails on it and rubbing it hard is EXTREMELY unpleasant! Again, must be all those porn videos.

-Insisting on intercourse when it’s clear they are not hard enough. Personally, I’ve never had any kids and my vagina is quite tight. If the guy is not fully erect, it just won’t happen-he won’t be able to penetrate. Instead we would engage in this fumbling/awkward/embarrassing dance which would’ve been easily avoided if he just let me do my job.

-Trying to move/shift the girls around like a raggedy Ann doll instead of simply asking for certain positions. We are not mind readers-trying to pull on my leg or tap on it tells me absolutely nothing. Besides, me receiving oral is EXTRA and it costs more $$. Articulate your request!

-Not pulling out when orgasmed, but trying to keep on pumping in hopes to get hard again and have a second go without girl noticing. It is dangerous-you are risking yours and girl’s health and life (see my “Attitudes towards condoms” post). Full condom and penis that is not fully erect is a bad combination: condom will slip or burst later. Don’t be a cheap prick-negotiate the “second time” deal and let the girl put fresh condom on.

-Not turning up for appointments and not calling to cancel. Again, this is our job, this is how we make a living-it only takes 30 sec to call or text!

-Lying about bookings/girls requested. This one is my personal “favorite”. I’ll illustrate with an example. Client made a booking with me through the reception on the phone. This particular agency has excellent website with multiple current photos of all the girls, so there is no guessing-you see exactly what you getting before you even set foot in the parlour. Booking was for 3:30pm. 2 other girls were working with me that day. Location:private apartment in Wellington CBD. No one showed up or called. At 4:10pm the doorbell rang. A younger girl opened the door. Client told her he had a booking with her. It was her first day, so she didn’t verify the name and just took him into the room. 2 min later another client showed up and he DID have an appointment for an hour with that young girl-he was just running late. The first guy was already undressed. Girl, being new, was confused and she blurted out to the guy #2 that she has another booking in 45 min.
I had to call the reception (located off-site) and try and make sense of the situation. Then I questioned guy #1.
Turns out, guy #1 was MY 3:30 booking. Not only was he extremely late (40 min), but when Tara opened the door he decided that he wanted her instead. It would have been perfectly fine (we can juggle things pretty good), had he explained that to us. Instead he just went into her room. AND he only wanted 15 min booking! So now guy #2 left in all the confusion/room shifting (1 hour booking lost for Tara) AND he was upset (understandably so), guy #1 didn’t get to be with Tara-we put him with little Chinese girl, so he didn’t get what he wanted,either and neither Tara,nor I or the agency made any money except for lousy $60 from guy #1. All that could be easily avoided with honesty and proper communication.

-Another “favorite” is when the client stands/sits literally half a metre away from you and asks how old you are. What does it matter?? The merchandise is in front of, close enough you can smell it, definitely see all of it. You either like what you see or you don’t. If I say I’m 50 or 20, what difference will it make? When I am shopping, if I like the garment (i.e.colour,fit,shape,etc), I will buy regardless of which year it was manufactured. However, if I don’t like it, the fact that it is very popular designer’s latest collection jem is not going to persuade me to fork over the cash.
Same when they look at your tits,even touch them and still ask if they’re real. What’s the difference-you either like what you see/feel or you don’t. I happen to have breast enhancements, but they were done over 13 years ago,under the muscle by best surgeon in Las Vegas. Even when I point out the scar,one can barely see it and it is located in an unusual place-“hidden in plain sight”, one might say. And,yes, they are “mine”-I didn’t just strap them on!

-Not understanding the concept of “appointment”-a problem unique to New Zealand. Punters here just don’t get it. They ring and ask who’s on, then just turn up whenever and get upset when most of the girls or the one they wanted are booked. Well, hello! What did you expect?? Or they ring and want to come over NOW. When I politely explain to them that I “take appointments” they ask if they can make an appointment for..yes, you guessed it, NOW.. Guys, “appointment” means some day/time in the future. At least 1 hour or more away. NOT 10 min from now.

-Trying to pull condom off when the girl is not watching and have unprotected sex. Certain country produces a lot of guys who seem to engage in this (they are also the ones who like very young girls and the most un-desirable punter for every WL in every country).

-Clients who try to impress WLs with their physique/penis size/sexual stamina/amount of money they make/their overall importance. Look, you’ve paid me whatever amount of dollars-I am sufficiently impressed. We are not on a date. We will not get married and have children together. Focus on your pleasure and don’t waste your energy trying to impress me. Please.
Having said that, I do appreciate clients who want to have an intelligent conversation on variety of subjects (be that politics,history,theater)-I enjoy stimulating my mind and always like to hear other people’s views/opinions.

-Clients who come to clubs/parlours looking for a girlfriend. Mate, this is the LAST place on earth who want to look for one! At best, the girl is honest and will just turn you down (and rejection is always unpleasant), at worst, the girl will pretend to go with it and will take as much money/goods/whatever from you as she can before she buggers off. “Pretty woman” is just that-a pretty, FICTIONAL story that has no basis in reality. besides, what are the chances that you look like Richard Gere?

Commitment vs.monogamy

So many of us have this romantic notion of meeting “The One” and living happily ever after in never-ending marital bliss…
Wake-up call: it does not exist. It’s true,but not necessarily sad. We just have to be realistic about our outlook on life and our expectations. There is no “happily ever after”, but there is happy “here and now”. Yes,romance still exists. It just takes work.. And flexibility..And understanding..
I AM a romantic. I want to experience the kind of beauty that comes with that kind of feeling about someone and going forward in life with a partner. But you have to keep an open mind about love if its ever going to work out and I think that means you have to relinquish control. I don’t think it’s something you control or really choose-it sort of chooses you.
Love is almost like a bottomless abyss. Defence mechanisms for keeping yourself safe from falling down that abyss or “surrendering” to a relationship are jealousy,withholding part of yourself “just in case”,unnecessary conflict,being critical,infidelity,covert hostility or being in touch with who the other person ISN’T, instead of who they are.
We do this because we don’t want to get hurt. And every single one of us was hurt at some point by someone we loved.
These days we are as human beings are a lot more complicated. We’re also become more weary and more demanding. Men and women are developing higher expectations and sometimes that places too much pressure because your partner is not always going to be everything you want.
Its very difficult to find someone who can wear all the hats of passionate lover,trusted confidant,pillar of support,life coach and domestic helper. High expectations will only lead to anguish. Dating is far more rewarding if we define the kind of role we want a partner to play in our lives.
We have to learn to embrace and appreciate our differences and enjoy the fact that we all evolve differently.
For a while now, I feel I understand things better when it comes to what I want out of life. It didn’t happen in a flash; its more of a slow process of gaining wisdom and then you reach a point where you realise that you’ve figured things out in a general way.
So everything becomes easier and you look at life through these lens of greater self-awareness and know how to live more happily and enjoy everything more. Life becomes less of a struggle.
Commitment is in your heart and in your mind. It has nothing to do with a piece of paper or huge 2 karat diamond on your finger.
It’s about weathering the storms and finding it in your heart to forgive, even when your partner hurt and disappointed you.
We all make mistakes. No one is perfect. How much you truly love your partner, when all the initial “chemical lust” wore off and the dust settled? When all those little cute quirks of the other person become annoying, when you truly need your space,at least once in a while…
Monogamy is not natural. Not for animals, not for human beings. To me, true commitment is about loyalty, about “having your partner’s back”, no matter what goes on with you or around you.
The most successful couples (both hetero and gay) admit to having “flings” and even semi-serious months-long affairs with people other than their partners. But they always reunited with the ones they truly love and care for, the ones they committed to.
Yes,it could be absolutely heart-wrenching to watch someone you love go off and have a fling. But that’s the question you need to ask yourself: how much does this person mean to me? Will I be better off without him/her? Do they truly make me feel “complete”? Will someone new ever be able to fill their shoes?
Let’s face it: everyone will hurt or disappoint us at some stage. We just need to figure out which ones are worth suffering for.
Life is not black and white-it’s all shades of grey. It takes a lot of skill, and,yes,experience to navigate through it. If you can do it together with your partner, so much the better.
Ultimately, it’s the ability to handle “open”  that cements longevity of the relationship.
Different people have different ideas of what “open” means.
To me,there are 2 versions of those.
Version A: all partners in it together. No, not necessarily all having sex with each other. Not at all. It’s more of a “commune” thing, where everyone is aware of all the partners and everybody provides emotional support to each other. For instance, if my girlfriend has another girlfriend, not only we are all friends, but when I had especially shitty day or something major happened and my girlfriend is not immediately available (let’s say she’s at work), I can call on that other girl and expect a shoulder to cry on and understanding.
I am a big believer in a “safe place”-that’s where you go to and expect complete and full acceptance and understanding,even if you are dead wrong, just because this person/people love you and it’s “us” against “the world”.
So in Version A safe place would be provided by everyone to everyone in that relationship.

Version B is slightly different. It’s when you have a committed relationship with one other person, yet it’s understood that there would be times when either one of you will go out and see something yummy and partake in it. It means nothing. To me it’s just like having a drink of water when you’re thirsty: you have it,thirst is quenched and you don’t think about it anymore,as there is nothing to think about.
Here’s how this version works: if my girlfriend went out and saw a tartlet she felt like putting her fingers in (provided said tartlet was willing), she can certainly help herself. However, if it so happens that I need my girlfriend that night for emotional support (see above:something happened, I had a horrible day,etc), I expect her to withdraw her fingers from the tartlet and come right over and be with me,because I am her partner and I need her. It would not bother me the slightest bit that she was with someone else just minutes before. What’s important is that she’s there for me. That’s commitment.
Having someone help you doesn’t mean that you failed-it just means that you’re not in it alone.
In my opinion,that’s how long-term relationships survive. It’s about give and take. You can’t take all the freedom from the other person and expect them adore you forever. It just doesn’t work. It breeds resentment.
Bottom line: it’s all about being thoughtful. Thoughtfulness is worth it’s weight in platinum and if we all put a little more of it into our relationships,chances are, we’d all be a lot happier.

Las Vegas brothels

They are not actually IN Las Vegas,as prostitution is illegal in Clark County. It is,however,legal in Nye County-about 45 min drive from Las Vegas through the mountains.
The town is called Pahrump and it’s quite literally in the middle of nowhere.
The most famous brothels of Nevada/US are located in there: Chicken Ranch, Cherry’s Ranch and, further down towards Reno, Bunny Ranch and some others,smaller and less famous.
Brothels are located way down dirt road (maybe they paved it now) outside of town.
Chicken Ranch, when I worked there, was basically a set of trailers connected to each other. Cherry’s Ranch was the same, but I’ve heard it was doing really good, so they’ve probably expanded and maybe even build some “real” houses.
To get a job in one of the brothels, you could stop by or call them and have an interview.
Then,when you were ready to start (always on Mon), you had to go to Las Vegas Health Department and be tested for STDs and HIV. This had to be done first thing in the morning and then you had to be at the brothel by 6 pm (they are assuming that you won’t have enough time to have unprotected sex during that window).
If you arrived later than 6 pm, the brothel would not accept you and then it’s until next Mon,when you can go to the Health Department again.
Once you arrived, all your belongings were searched for drugs. Back when I worked there (over 10 years ago), you also had to surrender your cellphone and all your cash.
There is a payphone inside the brothel and you could make and receive calls from it.
The reason cash is surrendered is because brothel takes 50% of ALL your earnings (including tips) and they do random room searches to make sure no one is cheating. All the money must be given to house Mom (manager) and it is paid to the girls in a form of a check at the end of the week. Taxes are not taken out,as girls are considered “independent contractors”.
If it was your first time there, you were also taken by the manager to the local Sheriff’s Department, where they checked your criminal record (you couldn’t work if you had pending matters and if you had serious  offences on you record, or even outstanding moving violations-that means “speeding” in US), took your fingerprints and a photo and issued you a “Sheriff’s Card” that clearly stated that you are a “prostitute”.
You are then assigned the room at the brothel. This room is yours and yours only for the duration of your stay. The way the law works there is that you cannot leave the brothel while you working. At all. For any reason. They don’t do out calls,either. If you leave, you’ll need to start the whole process again: Mon at the Health Department,etc
You couldn’t start working straight away,either-brothel would wait for a call from a Health Department confirming that you’re “clean”. It took until Tues night or Wed morning,usually. You were free to relax,watch TV,read,etc. If the call from Health Department confirmed that you had some sort of STD, you had to leave, fix the problem and then start all over again.
All girls are taken to the local doctor once a week (usually Tuesday) and they get about 2 hours in town to shop/eat out/do whatever. The rest of the time everyone stays inside the brothel.
Brothels provide 3 hot meals a day,cooked by a professional cook and refrigerator was always fully stocked with cold cuts,cheese,bread,fruit,etc.
There was also TV in the girl’s lounge,pool and exercise equipment
Some girls, who worked there all the time (usually 3 weeks on, 2 weeks off), had permanent rooms and would decorate them quite nicely at their own expense.
Some rooms had private bathrooms and others had to share those with another room.
Linens were provided along with the towels,but you had to do your own laundry-washer and dryer were available.
You had a choice of working either “day” or “night” shift. They both were 12 hour shifts,as brothel was open 24/7 every day of the year. It meant that you had to be at every line-up on that shift and would sleep ( or do whatever you please) undisturbed during your “off” hours.
Here’s how it worked: customer would come in and speak to the house Mom. She would sit him down on the couch in the lounge. She would then ring the bell that is heard throughout the house. All girls working that shift would line up in the hallway. They then would come into the lounge in a straight line (yes,all of them). They would introduce themselves,but in a short way: “Hi,I am Cleo”-that’s all. House Mom would ask the client which girl he wants and him and the girl would go into her room to discuss the particulars.
About the pricing…  The world famous Chicken Ranch “menu”. Although not required, girls were encouraged to write their own “menu” of services along with the prices: i.e. blow job-$150, straight sex-$200,etc. You could get as creative as you wished, listing every possible position and option (sex in the shower,for instance) and house did not restrict your pricing: you could ask for $3000 if you wanted and felt like you were able to get it. House was only too happy,as they were getting half of it.
As a rule, back when I worked there, absolutely nothing could be had for less than $150 (it would be a quick BJ probably with clothes still on-took about 15 min) and normally girls asked for about $300-$500 for a session. It is illegal to sell time in Nevada, so all the prices were per “deed”. Once the client was done (came), booking was considered over. Sometimes we chatted with  clients a bit, but that was really in hopes of getting them to book “another go”, which would normally be about $200.
There was also a private bungalow out back, completely self-contained, with satellite TV (not so common 15 years ago) and all-you-can-drink booze, unlimited meals and unlimited sex,of course (but girls didn’t worry much-with unlimited booze,meals and satellite TV it was pretty easy money,as a matter of fact). That cost $3000 for 24 hours. You could book it for longer, but not for less.
Once the client completed negotiations (just like a-la-cart menu at the finer restaurants-they’ve decided what they wanted and added up total cost), the girl collected the money and took it to the office to the house Mom.
If, for some reason,client and the girl could not come to an agreement, she would “walk” him-take him back to the lounge and he would be given another line-up without that girl in it.
House Mom kept the books for everyone. We were free to look at our books whenever we wished. Getting a total of $1000 in a shift ( your cut) would get you a stamp in a shape of a chicken just breaking out of an egg (hahaha- Chicken Ranch humor), so everyone was striving for a “chicken”.
Since moving to this Hemisphere (New Zealand ), I could never  “break a chicken” until just 3 weeks ago: prices are too low and punters are too cheap-hardly anyone tips,especially in NZ and no one wants to pay for extras. The only reason I finally did it, I think,is because I was working in this new brothel and the house Mom was a Hungarian woman who took a liking to me and she was seriously hassling for me.
Minimum stay at the brothel for a girl was 10 days (Mon through Wed). Wed was a departure day. You could stay longer and a lot of girls who were from out of town stayed for a month. It is pretty hard, though, and it definitely gets to you and plays with your head.
I had a friend there who lived in Las Vegas and worked for 3 weeks with 2 weeks break in between. She was quite young and incredibly hot with amazing body. She made about $20K every time she worked ( every 3 weeks).
The way I’ve heard it, Chicken Ranch was on decline, while Cherry’s Ranch was expanding and even building it’s own golf course!
There was also a casino build half-way from the town to the brothels and it, undoubtedly, increased the traffic.
Economy is not good in the States at the moment and I am not sure how it impacted the brothel’s business.
But this is, in fact, the oldest profession in the world: it survived wars, famine,disease,revolutions and changes of government. I am sure they are doing just fine

My second introduction to penis

I was 10 or 11 years old. Both of my parents were high-ranking (Olympic caliber) professional athletes, so when the school holidays rolled around and they were in some other city training, they would often have me fly to that city to spend time with them. It was never both of them at the same time, as they were in different sports and were training in different cities-they hardly saw each other.
I think that’s when I first got bitten by a “travel bug”-I absolutely loved flying,airports,hotels,restaurant meals… It was great!
This went on since I was about 7 and continued all through my school years-until I was 17.
Mostly, it was my Dad who traveled extensively (my Mom’s career was over by the time I was 10). I didn’t get to see him much even when I was in the same town with him-after all, he was working.
For him it meant getting up at 5:30am for morning training, then I would join him and his teammates for breakfast at 9am, then he would be away at sea training all day (he was a Chef Coach of Soviet National Team in yachting) until dinner at 6 pm and then he would be in the room watching TV and falling asleep by 8pm-yachting is a very intense sport.
So I learned how to entertain myself since I was very young. I think it really was a good thing, as I’ve learned how to be responsible, how not to get lost and how to look after myself in general.
When I was really young (6-9), Dad would leave some money with a front desk receptionist for my lunch, and later I took care of all that myself.
I very much looked forward to these holidays and saved up my allowance. I was very good at budgeting even then 🙂
In Russia, summer (June-August) is a traditional holiday time. All schools have this time off and a lot of people try to schedule their annual leave for those months as well.
Very popular tourists spot in Russia is Sochi-city by the Black Sea.
A lot of people would flock to Moscow as well,as it was a capital.
During summer months,especially when Mom’s volleyball career was over, we would try to spend a month together as a family somewhere (after my Dad finished his last competition of the season,usually held in Tallin in July).
During one of those holidays we were staying in a hotel in Sochi for the whole month of August.
Normally my parents would get a room with 3 beds and we would be sleeping in the same room.
Hotel rooms during summer months were at a premium and if you didn’t have “connections” you simply could not get one.
As you can imagine, it was very corrupt environment, where hotel and duty managers were taking bribes for reserving and distributing the rooms (everything was owned by the Government, but still managed locally).
Each floor had a receptionist as well. She (always a “she”, was seated right by the elevators and asked to see your room keys when when you attempted to enter the hallway leading to the rooms. Those receptionists had a list with the guest names corresponding to the room numbers. Again-plenty of opportunities for bribery, as you couldn’t, technically bring someone in who wasn’t a registered guest in that particular room.
My Dad knew a lot of hotel managers and those receptionists, as he traveled all over with the Soviet National Team. Those women loved him: he brought them presents from overseas AND he was a very good-looking men and slept with fair share of them as well.
One night, during our stay, receptionist told my Dad that one of the rooms on our floor will be unoccupied overnight and he can have it, if he wanted to have some “private time” with my Mom (obviously,otherwise impossible with all 3 of us sleeping in the same room).
So off I went to sleep in that other room, while my parents, presumably, engaged in hot love-making.
As I’ve mentioned before, I was very self-sufficient and welcomed the opportunity to just lay in bed and watch whatever TV channel I wanted.
I will never know exactly how it happened, but I woke up in the middle of the night and there was a man standing by my bed. I didn’t know who he was (or,at least, I don’t think I did)
He was saying “Shhhhh, your parents sent me over. They wanted me to make sure you’re OK”. Although the whole scenario was a bit strange, I was not alarmed at first. I was also a bit disoriented in the dark,having been asleep just a second ago.
The man sat down on the edge of the bed and started stroking me. Very gently at first and just my arm and back. Very soon, though, he was moving his hand between my legs. I froze. He was an adult and he said he was in my room at my parent’s request. I was brought up to obey adults. He kept saying “Just be quiet”.
I was scared now, but didn’t want to scream and bring any kind of attention to myself, as I felt it would be interpreted as my fault, somehow. So I just lay there.
In the meantime, the man unbuttoned his pants and took his penis out. He was now stroking himself at the same time as he had his hand between my legs, molesting my vagina.
He was clearly getting excited. Before I knew it, his finger was inside of me, but he was quite careful with it, not being rough, probably because he was afraid that I will scream if he hurt me.
That went on for a few moments and then he maneuvered himself so he was rubbing his penis on the side of my leg,still having his finger inside of me.
Then I heard him groan and I felt something warm on the side of my leg. Next thing I knew-he was gone.
I never saw his face, because he never turned the light on.
I was laying in bed,scared and shaking. I knew I could never tell my parents about this,as I really thought that my Mom, especially, will somehow make it all my fault and I will be severely punished,as I instinctively knew that what had happened was a really bad thing,indeed.
I went to the bathroom and washed myself carefully. There was a bit of blood between my legs and I was a little sore, but not too much-bastard made sure that he wasn’t roughing me up, so I won’t scream.
I will never know how exactly  he got in the room and who he was. I do suspect it was someone who knew my Dad and my family (there were few of his teammates staying in the same hotel)-that’s how he knew I would be in the room alone that night. I don’t know how he got the key, but back then hotels used old-fashioned keys and a lot of those fit different locks.
It could have been that the floor receptionist wanted to make some money “on the side” and set the whole thing up in order to “sell” me to some pedophile she knew…
I blocked the whole thing from my memory for a long time.
It did come back to me when I was 15.
I’ve decided that it was the day I will allow my boyfriend to have sex with me “all the way” (before then he never penetrated me, just rubbed himself on my vagina lips).
Well, we did it. When he finished and a few moments later realised that there was no blood, he didn’t say anything, just got up and got dressed.
The atmosphere was tense and awkward and I was trying to make a small talk, but he was responding with “yes” and “no” only and clearly couldn’t wait to get out of my house.
We’ve never talked about it again, but I knew he thought that I’ve slept with some other guy ( we were dating for 2 years). “Code of honour” was a pretty serious thing in my hometown back then. No  one just “slept with somebody”. Having sex (especially at the age of 15) was a very serious decision, often leading to an engagement and marriage.
I also knew that no matter what I said, he would never believe me and it would just make me look guilty. So I said nothing. Our relationship didn’t last much longer after that.
I haven’t had sex again until I was 17.

My first introduction to penis

It happened when I was 6.
I was staying with my favorite,”good” grandma-my Dad’s Mom. She was amazing,self-less person,a survivor who raised 3 kids on her own during WW2 and achieved quite high status in her career during the time when women were not at all considered “management” material in Russia AND in a Muslim dominated city as well,where women (even non-Muslim) meant to “know their place”- raising the kids/cleaning/cooking/looking after their husbands-that whole “barefoot and pregnant” mentality.
My grandma’s name was Evdokia and she is and always has been my role model and inspiration. In fact (and I realize this sounds a bit silly), I firmly believe that she is “watching over me” to this day, trying to help me through all life’s trials and tribulations.
She died young-in her late 50’s,working overtime and giving her all trying to help her children. She deserves a separate chapter,which I will definitely write.
The flat where my grandma lived was somewhat typical of Russian housing of that era-it was originally build in early 1900’s, rectangular in shape,2 stories high,with flats/rooms running around the perimeter and forming a courtyard in the middle. There was a big ornate iron gate at the entrance into the courtyard. Before revolution it was probably some sort of boarding house/ rental flats. After the revolution it was appropriated by the government (like everything else) and individual flats were given to citizens.
Although,thanks to the old design, all flats were roomy and had very high ceilings (4-5 meters) and large windows,many were not equipped with private toilets. There were  communal toilets/showers downstairs for everyone. My grandma  (and many others) used a bucket for toileting purposes and then just took it downstairs and emptied it into one of the communal toilets. Grandma even had a special wooden stool build, with an opening in the middle and nice soft padding around it,so you didn’t have to crouch over the bucket-just sat on the “throne”!
To get to certain flats,one had to enter the “main” door,then go along the corridor,where other flats were located.
Clearly,because of the design of the building,everyone knew each other and each other’s business. Friendships and alliances were formed.
One of my grandma’s best friends (a woman about her own age) lived in a downstairs flat with her husband. The two visited each other often to “borrow some sugar”,exchange knitting patters or just for a cuppa and a chat.
One evening Shura (that was friend’s name) was over at my grandma’s place. I was playing and women were looking at some knitting. Shura realised that she needed something from her flat and my grandma sent me to fetch it.
It was winter, 7pm, already dark outside. I run downstairs and knocked on Shura’s door. Her husband (whom I’ve met on many occasions previously) opened the door wearing boxer shorts and a “wife-beater”singlet. I told him that I was sent to get whatever it was (I honestly cannot remember). He invited me in.
As he led me deeper into their flat,the feeling of uneasiness grew inside me. The flat was dark, no lights were on and he had very funny look on his face and the smell of alcohol on his breath. But I was only 6 and brought up to respect and obey my elders,so I followed.
Somehow he maneuvered himself behind me and,before I knew it,his hands were under my dress,caressing me,sliding down and rubbing me over my panties. I froze. He wasn’t hurting me and he wasn’t restraining me, and  he was an adult and authority and I didn’t want to be rude, so I didn’t know what to do and how to act.
He kept saying something about “playing a game”,asking me if I like games. I said yes. He then slid his finger under my panties,touching me all over,but not penetrating.
And then it happened:he pulled out his penis and asked me to touch it. And he forced my hand on it. It was revolting!! Big and hairy and smelly! It looked huge and scary to me. I was only 6 years old. I was terrified and helpless.
I kept trying to move forward,out of his grasp,but he held on to me. He then proceeded telling me that it would be fun to see what happens if he put “his thing” into “my thing”. I just vigorously shook my head and tried to pull away. He said “OK,OK”, but still forced my hand on his penis again and kept rubbing my vagina.
That went on for a few minutes, until I asked for whatever it was Shura needed again and he must have realised that someone (his wife,most likely) will come looking for me if I’m not back soon.
He told me not to tell anyone and that this is “our secret” ( pedophiles are so repetitive:this line must be used millions of times all over the world).
I grabbed whatever I came for and run out. I was shaken. I didn’t know what to do. I kept thinking that if I told my grandma and Shura,I would be in trouble. I sensed that what happened was wrong, but I thought it was ME who’s done something wrong.
I went upstairs and just sat on grandma’s couch quietly. After a few minutes she asked me if I was alright. I said yes and pretended to watch TV.
I’ve never told anyone about that episode. I know now that my grandma would,in all likelihood,kill (quite literally) that bastard and go to jail for it. So in a way, I’m glad I didn’t. I avoided any situation where I would be alone with that guy again,which wasn’t hard,as I didn’t live with that grandma (I lived with my other,evil one,on the other side of town),only visited occasionally.
Men are predators by nature. And as such,they have what I call “a point of no return”. That is when their ugly self-serving instincts completely take over and they are absolutely unable to stop. They know what they’re doing is wrong,that there might and will be consequences,but at that very moment all they can think about is satisfying their primary urges and serving their dicks. Nothing but brutal physical force can stop them when it’s happening. No amount of begging or reasoning. Their brain is shut down.
I am a woman and pride myself on the fact that I can stop at any point. It doesn’t matter how intoxicated I am,how horny or overcome with lust and what stage of coitus I am in. I understand that someone can change their mind unexpectedly and inexplicably at any time “before” or “during”,as humans are very complex beings. “No” means “no” to me.
I’ve had sex with quite a few people, but it was always,always because they really wanted to be in bed with me. I don’t take advantage of drunk and emotionally vulnerable. I would never “trick” someone into having sex. In fact, I hardly ever initiate sex-I wait for the other person to clearly indicate (with either words or actions) that it is,indeed,what they want.
I also don’t have “recreational” sex (you know, when you do it “just for the heck of it”) with women,because for me to truly enjoy it, I need to have an emotional connection with the person,otherwise it feels just like work (as in what I do for a living)  and I never want it to be like that with women.
That’s what separates me from the predators that are male species.

Phone etiquette for a booking (funny stories about unique NZ punters)

When in NZ, I like to travel around-the country is absolutely gorgeous. I usually combine business with pleasure:do some sightseeing,visit my friends and work at the same time.
NZ only has three major cities:Wellington, Auckland and Christchurch (which is laying in ruins after several major earthquakes at the moment). The rest is comprised of various regions (like Hawkes Bay,Taranaki,Marlborough,Central Otago,etc). Each of those regions has one decent sized town which is considered the “hub” or a “capital”, if you will, of that particular region. Those towns,although pretty small, have some nice restaurants and, once in a while, you can come across an unexpected shop that just might surprise you :).
NZ is very unique when it comes to advertising Working Girl’s services. Prostitution was de-criminalised here over 6 years ago, so it’s perfectly OK to ply out trade and advertise.
However, it’s the only country (in civilised world, I mean) that I know of that relies so heavily on newspaper advertising for the services of prostitutes in this day and age of advanced technology.
Yes, there are websites (one of the biggest and most popular ones being NZGirls which is connected to Adult Forum-the biggest online forum for adult entertainment industry in NZ), but on any given day, your average punter in here picks up local daily paper and looks through adult entertainment section to satisfy his needs.
This creates another phenomenon: girls are asked to describe themselves over the phone and often times that is the only thing punter has as far as “visuals”. You can only imagine how that leads to disappointment sometimes.
Kiwis are very laid back (so much so that if they get any more laid back, they’ll be horizontal..LOL..). This “laid back” attitude definitely spills into the way they talk when making phone inquiries.
For instance, in US, people are very businesslike in their approach to everything. When they call to make a booking or inquire, it’s a very fast-paced conversation with specific,RELEVANT questions and requests.
here, in NZ, it’s a different story…
Let me offer an example of an average phone inquiry. Before I do that, I’d like to point out that I structure my ads to give as much information as possible. For instance: “Euro.Amazing body.DD.Tall,slender.3 days only.Discreet CBD hotel  000-XXX-000 <my phone number>”. So before you ever picked up the phone, you already know that I am white Caucasian (that’s Euro-European) with ample bust,only in town for 3 days (which also means I’m “new”,as I probably never been here before or haven’t been in a long time),really good body,slim and tall.
Ring,ring,ring <my phone rings>
I answer sweetly “Hello”
Punter “Hi…Are you there? I’m calling about your ad in today’s paper”
Me <pause>-I’m waiting for him to proceed with the inquiry as I can’t guess what he wants to know-I can’t read minds
Punter <after a pause> “Yeah,can you give me more info”
Me (still not sure what exactly he wants to know, but just go with the prices for starters,as that’s the only thing NOT covered in my ad). “It’s <amount> for an hour and <amount> for half an hour
Punter “Ay,ye…..” <pause>   “Can I have a brief description?”
Me (thinking:the description is in the ad,if you want to know something specific,ask,but OK) <proceed to repeat the description in the ad, adding country of origin>
Punter “Ay,ye…How old are you?”
Me “Do you have access to Internet? I can direct you to the site where you can see my photos” (because age is a very relative thing and is a matter of perception. for instance, i’ve never had any kids, never done drugs or smoked, never tanned excessively (that ages you a lot). I have no tattooes or piercings and am very slender and take good care of my body with the help of various beauty treatments. So I look much better than some of much younger girls I know who had 3 kids by the age 24,smoke like chimneys, use drugs,etc)
Punter (in 90% of the cases) “No, I am just calling from my phone” (Dah, I know THAT,that wasn’t my question,though-you could have Internet access on your phone for all I know)
Me <give him my age>
Punter “So are you Asian or?..” Now, this is the thing that drives me crazy in this Hemisphere: they ask  questions ending on “..or..” and nothing else. It is incomplete sentence! I was taught at the Uni that I should NEVER do that,as it is a poor grammar. “..or..” WHAT?, for crying out loud.. Besides, after hearing my strong, obviously Slavic accent and reading the ad that says “Euro” how does one even come up with “Asian”?! I don’t get it.
Me “No, I am white European”
Punter “So you’re gonna be here for a while,are you?” (variation:”Are you here for the World up?”-and that matters HOW?)
Me “No. Just like the ad says-3 days only. I don’t live here” (thinking: the ad costs money,why would I waste it printing something that’s not the case??
Punter “Oh..So where are you based?” (again, how does that matter? Note how much time (and phone minutes) is wasted so far)
Me “I live in Wellington”
Punter “Ay, ye.. So when are you available?”
Me “I work by appointment only. I take bookings”
Punter “Ay,ye..So when are you available?”
Me “What time are you looking for?” (this is important,as if the caller only could do morning or lunchtime meeting, there is no reason for me to fire off all available times. Plus, if the punter tells me his desired time, it’s much easier and less time consuming: for instance “I would like half an hour booking at 10 am”.
I understand that guys work and have families/obligations. I DO respect and appreciate their time. They usually can only do it at certain times. Well, tell me what they are and we can sort this out so much quicker!
Punter <sometimes makes a booking and sometimes tells me that he needs “to check his diary” and call me back.
There are variations to this conversation, when punters answer “3 days only ad” and ask me whether I’m “working today”. Well, whaddaya think? I am here for 3 days, I paid for the ad (and they don’t exactly come cheap), I got a hotel room.. Yes, of course I am working!
Or someone rings and asks for the price straight away, then proceeds with all the other questions (see above), only to tell me at the end that it’s too much money. But that was the FIRST question you asked, I want to scream,why didn’t you hang up then and there?
Sometimes guys ask if it’s a “full service I offer or…” (again with that blasted “or” and incomplete sentence).
I am a prostitute, I advertise as such in appropriate section of the newspaper (for instance,Dom Post in Wellington has a separate section for “sensual massage”-meaning massage with “happy ending” vs. full sex service), OF COURSE, it is a full service.
Another huge pet peeve of mine is the concept of “booking” and “appointment” in nz. This particular concept seems foreign to most Kiwis (probably that laid back attitude to blame). In US I had a day-planner and my clients usually booked days and definitely hours in advance. This way I could schedule my own errands in between and allow plenty of time for me to get ready and look my best for the client.
Here people ring and ask if I am “free now”. When I tell them they need to make a booking, they say “OK,let’s make a booking. Can I come over in 10 min?”. I really just want to scream. I do.
“Now” and “10 min from now” is NOT a booking-it’s a booty call. I don’t ask for appointments because I want to sound important-it’s better for everyone that way and much more organised and enjoyable.
I live only 2 min down the street from my employer in Wellington, so sometimes I’m willing to accommodate a ‘booty call” when someone turns up at her doorstep un-announced and she has no girls in the house. However, punter will need to deal with the fact that I, most likely, will not have any make-up on and will be wearing PJs.
I am not kidding:happened a couple of times, when a client had a case of a “morning wood”, rang Lilly, got no answer (as she doesn’t start answering the phones until 10am) and came over anyway!

What really annoys me is punters trying to bargain down the price. I price myself VERY realistically for what I look like and what I have to offer. I don’t understand why people want to embarrass themselves by asking.
Just this morning (I am in Taranaki ATM) the guy called and asked ALL the questions (see sample conversation above) and then said “How about $80”. I started laughing-I honestly couldn’t help myself. He said “You laughing” accusingly and he sounded hurt almost.. Well, don’t ask stupid questions and you won’t get stupid answers-that’s one wisdom my Dad taught me from a very young age.
Something specific to Taranaki happened this trip (it’s never happened anywhere else before) when some guy text me and asked me if I want to have coffee. This is my “work” phone, so I wasn’t sure if he got the wrong number,maybe, but,no.. He saw my ad in the paper and thought it would be OK to text me and ask me for a coffee/drink. He never even booked me before! WTF?!

Sometimes punters call and make “fake” bookings(they book and never turn up and don’t answer their phone)-again, very NZ thing. I can’t imagine why would one want to do it and how is it fun for them? It is very frustrating,as for me it means loss of money and time, as I can’t book someone else on such short notice and don’t have enough time to go do something else,as I usually have another booking coming shortly (I try to schedule several bookings in a row with a nice long break in-between the “rows”).

I love NZ-it’s a beautiful country which is very unique. Generally,people are awesome:kind, easy going and relaxed. But sometimes doing business is challenging,that’s for sure :/

My stint as a stewardess (flight attendant) for Aeroflot Russian Airlines

Recent article in Yahoo news reminded me of my flight attendant stint when I was 18.
I must say, it was absolutely the BEST job, the one that I really truly liked and was willing to do forever. Alas, it wasn’t meant to be: I only had it for a few months. But, boy, was it fun!

I’ve been dreaming about that job for years. I’d see flight attendants in town, in their blue uniforms and think of how great it would be to travel everywhere. Back then stewardess job was very much romanticised and everyone thought it was so glamorous. It wasn’t actually,as I found out later, but I still loved it and had a lot of fun doing it.
Everything was owned by the government back then, including the only airline Russia had-Aeroflot.

Although airport itself was about 45 min drive out of my hometown, local Aeroflot Headquarters building was right in CBD.
One sweet summer day I went in there: I wanted to know how one would go about applying for a job (as jobs were not advertised in newspapers back then).
I was told that initial interviews/auditions for flight attendants were held on the 20th of every month.
Dressed in my best “professional” outfit (white blouse with high ruffled collar and navy blue skirt), I was at the door on the 20th at the appointed time.
I was ushered in a room where a “panel” sat: 4 men and 1 woman. They asked me various questions about my education and background and gave me appraising looks. At the end of the interview I was told to wait in another room.
After about 20 min wait I was called back and told that I was “pre-selected”, BUT… I needed to undergo a medical/vision examination to determine whether or not I was fit to fly.
I was so excited! My dream was within my reach!
Next few days proved really trying,though, as I had to see various specialists in different clinics and undergo  numerous X-Rays. I almost didn’t make the cut because of my chronic sinus problem: apparently if you had persistent sinus infections, you were axed. So I asked one of my girlfriends to undergo X-Ray for sinuses under my name: I was on pins and needles during that time,afraid to get caught, but it worked! I was in!
I was told to come and fill out the paperwork at HR office. That’s where I hit another snag: the legal age for the job was 18 and I was only 17. But I pleaded with HR woman, pointing out that I was going to turn 18 within a month-she agreed to let it slide.
The day I got issued my brand new uniform was the happiest day of my life. I couldn’t wait to start working.
We (newbies) underwent a three-day training program and then were assigned to “seniors” for probation period. Basically, it was like an apprenticeship, where we learned “on the job”. However, if we failed the “final inspection” by one of the senior flight attendants when the “training period” was over, we could still loose the job.
I don’t know of anyone who failed,though,as the job is really not a rocket science. The hardest part was to try and get everything done in a limited time frame that we had, as back then Aeroflot was not a modern, sophisticated airline it is now and lots of tasks had to be done manually.
As I’ve said, I loved the job, but only was able to do it for a few months: I was actually full-time student then and, as I got started in the beginning of the summer, it was fine until Sept, when I had to attend regular day-time classes at the Uni 6 days a week. I was still holding on to the job until Oct, when my Mom literally locked me out of the flat one day when I got home after a flight and demanded that I go back and resign,as I was missing way too many days from the Uni.
But I do have some interesting stories to tell 🙂

First was my brief love affair with a pilot: how could a stewardess career (however brief) exist without one,right?
His name was Tofic, he was half-Azerbaijani,half Russian (mixes are always so hot and sexy, both male and female). He was a First pilot, a Captain, much older than me, about 17 years my senior (back then I always went for older men). He was married to his second wife (ex-stewardess herself) who was heavily pregnant and worked at the main Aeroflot office at the time. In retrospect, he just wanted to get laid (wife’s heavy pregnancy  was not conducive to that), was flattered that he could get “barely 18” girl into bed and I found the whole thing really exciting. It was my first “proper” affair with an older,married man. At no point did I have visions of us getting serious at any stage: I was just swept away with the novelty of it all.
We flirted, then I made an effort to get flights which he was piloting, then we ended up on the “overnight” flight (long flight, where the crew gets to a destination and spends the night in a hotel,returning to home base the next day) and, of course had some steamy sex, made even more exciting by the fact that it was “wrong” and “prohibited”.
Sadly, I could never join a “mile-high” club with Tofic :/, as he was,in fact a FIRST pilot-he couldn’t leave the cockpit for long.
We did have some “standing up” sex at the front door of his hotel room: it was a small enclosure with the door leading to a main hallway and another door leading to the room. The crew was in the room and both doors were closed, but unlocked, so anyone could walk in on us at any time-oohhh,that was so exciting!
On one of the “overnight” trips we went camping and him and I “did it” in the tent, in a sleeping bag, while his second pilot was snoring right next to us.
That affair lasted a few months even after I quit the job, but then kind of  fizzled out all by itself (natural progression of things).
I did hear from Tofic again, 2 years later, when our town was under siege (see “How I survived the war” post). He actually made an effort to locate me and offered to get me out of town-his crew was planning to,basically, hijack the plain and just get “out of dodge”. Extreme circumstances is where you find out who your REAL friends are,that’s for sure.

Russia had a lot of small planes in circulation back then. One of those was YAK40. It was very basic plane used for shorter,”local” flights. Several times pilots let us,stewardesses “steer” the plane-it was real steering,too,as everything on it was manual. One time the pilot actually let me sit on his lap during the take-off and, literally,pull the plane up off the ground (all I had to do was pull the “wheel” towards me). Looking back, I realise how dangerous it was (I had absolutely no clue what I was doing), but that’s the beauty of being young and inexperienced: you don’t really grasp full consequences of your behaviour (that pilot and I were putting not just our lives, but the lives of about 20 other people in danger).

Another type of plane, TU134, was a bit bigger, but fleet of those was much older and in a very sad condition. It,too, had “manual” steering. I was in the cockpit once during the take-off (blatant violation of the rules) and the pilot was this really short guy. As he started to pull the wheel towards him to lift the plane off the ground, I noticed that he was slowly standing up, trying to get proper leverage (those planes had no hydraulics). By the time we reached cruising altitude, the pilot was standing up fully, just like a captain of a ship. The whole thing looked hilarious to me; I could barely contain my laughter :).

Working a flight on the same type of plane once, I was in the kitchen, sitting on the bench,feet propped against the stove;often times we’d put extra passengers on flights in exchange for bribes,as tickets were sold out for months ahead and we gave up our “crew” seats and violated all aviation safety standards by sitting or even standing without seat belts during take-off and landing. The plain was taking off and I heard this creaking noise: it sounded like the plain was coming apart at the seams! I held my breath and prayed fervently that it holds up, as it was old and there is such thing as “metal fatigue”.. It held 🙂

The best and biggest plane in Russian Aeroflot fleet back then was TU154. Those plains were newer and nicer. Still, they had their problems. Many times Russian ingenuity of the pilots saved the day.
Like that one time when we were approaching Moscow… We started our descent when, to my great amazement, I saw the 4th pilot (also known as “flight engineer”) run into the kitchen. This was highly irregular,as all of the crew was needed at the cockpit to execute the landing.
Without saying a word, engineer pulled all the fuses from our kitchen stove and rushed back into the cockpit.
Landing went without a hitch and, when all the passengers left the plane, we were told that the whole instrument panel went dark during landing (there was electric short and all the fuses were blown)-we lost all navigation. Instead of panicking, engineer demonstrated some quick thinking by using kitchen fuses!

Another time we just barely took off when the First pilot rang the kitchen: apparently, one wheel of the landing gear was stuck midway and we needed to burn all the fuel before we would try to “belly-land”. Back then it was not customary for a captain to explain the situation to the passengers: it was our job as a cabin crew. We tried to delay it as long as we could, but a few started getting alarmed when they noticed that we are just cruising around the take-off city on a low altitude.
We explained the situation, told passengers not to panic and stay seated with their seat belts on. Of course, not everyone listened. We had to keep everyone calm for the next 2 hours and people were getting antsy.
It was nerve-racking. At one point I noticed some guy getting up from his seat and reaching into overhead compartment. I’ve had enough: I swiftly went over,pushed him into his stomach, which effectively forced him  back into his seat and told him to “sit the fuck down and don’t move”. He did as he was told-I think I looked really scary..LOL..
Ultimately, the landing ended up being drama-free;almost in the last minute the gear went un-stuck.

Back in those days different areas of Russia were experiencing shortages of different goods/products. I think everyone knows about the toilet paper issue, as it was featured in many a movie..LOL..
There were other things. For instance, my hometown had shortage of meat and butter. Each family received coupons from local authorities: one per person, for a kilo of butter and 2 kilos of meat per month. We had to go to the grocery store and present the coupon and then purchase those. Although displayed in the cases,meat and butter were not sold without the coupons.
However, other republics/cities were not affected by those shortages. While I was a stewardess, I had a neat little business going, bringing cases of butter back home and re-selling it at a profit.
My Mom would inform our neighbours in advance, before I even got home from the flight and they would “put the order in” (how many kilos). It went really fast-I never had anything left over,as Russians like to bake and our baked good are very rich and require a lot of butter 🙂

Certain flight routes were more desirable than the others to both pilots and flight attendants. For instance, flights to Tallinn (capital of Estonia) ranked pretty high up there,as to us Estonia was almost “The West”-it was sophisticated,elegant and beautiful  with huge cafe culture (almost unheard of in those days).
One had to be friends with the roster-maker to get those flights,as they were limited and only “seniors” got them.
Tallinn was “overnight” flight, so the crew could really partake in the city,it’s bars and restaurants.
Often times crew would get together in a hotel room after a night out,drinking. This usually ended in mass orgy (as it does :).
On one such occasion (I wasn’t there), one of the stewardesses had a change of heart and refused the advances of the pilots. I don’t seriously believe anyone was going to rape her, but everyone was really drunk (including said stewardess) and she ended up jumping out of the window (it was only second floor) and landing on a canopy of the hotel. She wasn’t hurt at all, rather really embarrassed (she was practically nude).
This caused Estonian Administration Of Civil Aviation to lodge a formal complaint to our boss (the Head of Azerbaijani Administration Of Civil Aviation) and his brilliant solution was to cut out “overnight” portion of Tallinn flights for 3 months, as a punishment. We were all pretty pissed,as that “overnight” was our little treat and one of the perks of the job and everyone got punished because of two people’s bad judgement while under influence.

I have to point out that although few of the pilots violated the rules sometimes (like flying while still hangover), Russian pilots were really well trained and skilled. They had to fly inferior  planes/equipment and they made it happen over and over again, dealing with emergencies “on the go”.

Many years ago, when I lived in America, I watched a documentary about a plane that crashed due to malfunction of navigational equipment. The “black box” was recovered and recording of the conversation in the cockpit was re-played.
What happened, in a nutshell, was the plane was flying in a really bad weather,at night, with zero visibility. Somehow,gages malfunctioned and were showing the wrong altitude (pilots believed they were a lot higher than they actually were). At some point,all communication with the control tower was lost as well. As everyone was relying on instruments alone, pilots were executing a “blind” landing. They believed they were 1500 meters high. When they finally came out of the low clouds, it became apparent that they were only 500 meters high! They saw the ground rushing up at them.
What really impressed me was the Captain (the First pilot): while his “second in command” was screaming and,clearly,lost all control, the Captain just kept saying in a low,calm voice “it’s OK,we’re gonna make it. It’s alright. Calm down.”.
Understand that at that point, when he saw the ground and realised how low they actually were, he knew he was seeing his death,plain and simple. There was absolutely no way to correct the plane and pull it up-there wasn’t time. No miracle could save the plane in that stage and, as trained professionals, pilots knew that in a instant (that’s why the second one started screaming). Yet the Captain maintained his composure and tried to calm his “second” down. To me, it was truly astounding.

I did miss being a stewardess. I’ve applied for a job with Delta when I moved to US and was actually offered a position. But you know what they say about not being able “to step into the same river twice…
The money offered was miserable AND I had to move (permanently) from California to Newark and due to my circumstances back then, it just wasn’t possible…

Japanese clubs and brothels

When I lived in US, at one point it became really popular for American girls to travel to Japan for work.
“Agents” sprouted up everywhere offering “free tickets and accommodation” and “lots of money” to be earned.
The trend had to do with the fact that Japanese men like “western” girls, especially buxom blonds,as they are so different from Japanese women.
In most cases it was all pretty above board: girls went and made a lot (or some)  money and safely came back.
Sometimes things didn’t turn out that great, when girl’s passports were taken away by club managers/owners and they were made to work until their airline tickets and accommodation were fully paid for.
A bit of a grey area was around actual entertainers (singers, for instance). Pretty blond ones were aggressively recruited by agents for work in Japan. They were promised a lot of money. Most of those girls were not extremely successful at home: they were lucky if they got “jingles for commercials” jobs here and there:mostly they were starving hopefuls. They were not working girls, however, and honestly thought they were going to Japan to sing in a club.
They were,in fact, expected to sing, but that’s not how  “a lot of money” was made promised by agents. They were expected to provide sexual favours in exchange for expensive gifts and sizable cash “donations”.
Some of them took it all as par for the course and some were truly traumatised by the experience.

I always liked to travel and after listening to this one girl talking about Japan in a strip club where I worked, I’ve decided to do some research.

Internet wasn’t what it is now back then ,but it was adequate. I got in touch with a female agent in San Diego (I lived in Las Vegas).
She explained to me that the ticket will be bought for me and the club will provide free accommodation, but I will have to pay the owner back for the ticket out of my earnings over the period of 9 weeks (minimum stay required). I wanted to be very clear about not surrendering my passport at any point and she assured me that it was a given.
I was getting excited: I love trips to far away exotic places!
I was given some basic instructions on how to act upon arrival to pass through immigration undetected (I was a US citizen, so didn’t require a special visa, but the visa stamped upon arrival is 3 months visitor visa, which does not permit one to work). It was all common sense,really: don’t pack any obvious “stripper” clothes or shoes,if questioned, tell them you’re in the country “sightseeing”,etc.
I was even given a fake hotel reservation with address and phone number :).
I was supposed to fly to Los Angeles, where agent would be awaiting with my round-trip ticket to Tokyo.
On appointed day I arrived to LA (only 45 min flight from Las Vegas), collected my luggage and was waiting for the agent to turn up… And waiting… And waiting..I tried calling agent’s cell phone,but it went straight into a voicemail. After about 30 min I was thinking of various possibilities (that’s just me: I want to have plan A,B AND C,just in case. I like things organised).
Since I didn’t really invest that much money into the whole thing (some new wardrobe, ticket to LA), I’ve decided to just go back home and write the whole thing off. But before I did it, I sat down to eat a cup of yogurt. That’s when breathless agent (scrawny looking chick who looked like she indulged in various recreational drugs) turned up.
So it was happening,after all! I didn’t hide my displeasure with her tardiness (she was almost an hour late!) and she got really defensive, telling me that traffic was awful.
I got my ticket from her and I was on my way 🙂
I have to say, it was one of the best travelling experiences of my life. I flew Singapore Airlines and the flight was half-empty, so I could stretch across 3 seats and have a nice sleep (I noticed that Air New Zealand announced recently their new “deluxe coach” class where they offer exactly the same deal: they made armrests completely retractable and you can purchase 2 tickets at a regular price and the third for half price, so you and your partner can have 3 seats for yourself and lay down). Food was amazing and service impeccable.
They gave you a “care package” with some warm socks,toothpaste,toothbrush and face wipes. At any time during the flight you could buzz if you felt hungry and they brought you those amazing multi-level sandwiches with different fillings. Booze was flowing freely on request (all that in coach class!).
I slept,watched movies,read,ate-it was a great flight 🙂
I had no trouble passing through customs and immigration in Japan and was met by club’s representative: a short Japanese guy in his early twenties. Turns out he was club owner’s nephew and  worked in the club as a bartender. He didn’t speak a lick of English, but was pleasant and during the next few weeks we actually had a lot of fun at work. One time, for example, he dressed in drag,as a joke,and climbed on stage to do a striptease. All of us girls joined him and we performed a “mock orgy’. Clients loved it and fun was had by all.

The club wasn’t in Tokyo-it was in a small town about 2 hours south. Real estate is at a premium in Japan, so club was on the 3rd floor of a 15-story building (owned by the same guy who owned the club). Building housed a small restaurant downstairs, a “blow-job shop” (I’ll explain that one later:) and apartments.

Us girls were housed right there in those apartments, so we only had to take elevator downstairs to go to work-pretty convenient.

My apartment had 2 rooms,each equipped with a bunk bed. Since I went in February and it was dead of the winter (really cold in Japan),there weren’t many girls working and I had the room for myself. Another girl had the room next to mine and we shared a kitchen and a bathroom.

Apartment was passable-the only thing that took a lot of getting used to was a pillow. It was stuffed with either rice or small grain of some sort, so although pliable, not exactly what you’d call “soft” and definitely not anything that we are used to in “western” world.
As I was preparing for my trip, I bought a book-one of those “For Dummies” series, called “Japan For Dummies”.
It proved to be extremely helpful throughout my stay and saved me more than once.
From it I learned about Japanese customs.
 For instance, when a man takes you out, you are (as a woman) the one to light his cigarette and pour a drink in his glass, holding the bottle a certain way (with both of your hands).
Japanese are gracious hosts, but will take a serious offence if westerners do not act according to a certain “code of conduct”.
For instance, when invited to a Japanese house, one must always bring a present,artfully wrapped “Japanese” style, but it will never be opened by a host right then and there for everyone to look at and discuss:instead, it would be placed on a special table to be opened later,when everyone is gone. It is very rude to ask the host to open the gift straight away (unlike in Western world,where it is a norm and tradition).
The biggest fear of any Japanese is “loosing face” (to be embarrassed), so every care must be taken not to create a situation where this might occur.
Japanese try really hard not to say “No”-it is considered rude and is deemed something that will cause “loss of face”. Instead,they ignore the subject that causes “No” answer and proceed saying “yes” to something that is,in fact,possible. I know it sounds unrealistic, but Japanese mastered this art of “yes” answers even when they actually mean “no” and are quite skilled at it. Those of you who worked in Japan know exactly what I mean :).
It is considered very rude to decline any food while you are being entertained by Japanese host (either at their house or at a restaurant). Instead, one must pick up a piece of food with chopsticks, touch it to their lips and put it right back down. That’s all! No one is going to ask you why you’re not eating a particular dish or why you don’t like it or egg you on to try it-the whole thing will be completely ignored (again, that “loosing face” issue).
However, if you keep carrying on about “disgusting raw fish”,etc, your host will take a grave offence (although he will never let you know in any way) and you will not be invited out by him again.
It is considered a sign of wealth and affluence in Japan for a Japanese man to be seen with Western women. In fact,the more women,the better! So if the guy asks you out in a club and you are not quite comfortable going off with him,ask if you could bring a girlfriend or two-he’ll love it!
As I knew “the rules” in advance, I quickly became very popular among club’s clients.
 It was a strip club-it opened it’s doors at 7pm and closed at 3am (sometimes at 1am during the week when it wasn’t busy).
We did stage shows and lap dancing. Nothing else.
However, club owner encouraged us to go out with clients, if asked, in our spare time (never on the “club time”). Club didn’t get any fee or commission for that and they didn’t care if you just went out for a meal or had sex,whether you charged for it or how much.
The reason club wanted us to do this, is clients then came back and frequented the club,as there were always “new” girls. There was a “door” fee and drinks were bought (Japanese men do drink A LOT), so club made money. If club became known for it’s “uppity” girls who didn’t want to spend any of their “free” time with clients, it would be beginning of the end for it-clients would go someplace else.

Japanese men are actually pretty generous, if you play your cards right. For instance, an American girl who arrived with me constantly (and loudly) complained about “gross” Japanese food and how she wants some KFC (there WERE,in fact, KFC shops in Japan). When we were invited out she behaved disrespectfully (by Japanese standards) and soon she was not invited out anymore.

Myself and my equally shrewd Aussie friend, however, knew how to act and what to say and we were taken on shopping trips (our host paid for our purchases,of course), dined at the fine restaurants (I remember one particular lunch at a French restaurant, where our host shed out $1000US for 4 people without flinching) and went to certain “Japanese only” places (yes, there are actually signs proclaiming “Japanese only” on the doors of establishments) because Western women (but not men) were allowed if accompanied by Japanese hosts. Not to mention the fact that both her and I came to Japan to make money and gladly provided sex services in exchange for some hefty cash “gifts”-our hosts happily paid extra,as we were willing to spend time with them during the day.
I got to explore a Buddhist Temple, old Japanese cemetery (very unusual),went to Kabuki Theater…. It was a lot of fun…
Smaller useful things from “Japan For Dummies”(but no less important) were the pointers about the city taxis: apparently in a nasty,rainy or snowy weather taxi drivers are reluctant to pick up fares,as they might end up going really far out of the city for the destination required by a passenger. So when flagging down a taxi in this circumstances, one should have two or three fingers out,which indicates that you are willing to pay double or triple the fair (depending on how many fingers you’re sticking out).
This particular bit turned out to be a lifesaver when I got caught in a very unexpected snowstorm in Tokyo. I was wearing designer shoes and light coat,as it was quite nice out when I left my apartment (2 hour train ride from Tokyo) that morning. Then in the afternoon it suddenly went to shit. After trying to walk to the train station and having ice-cold water sloshing in my shoes after about 10 min, I tried to hail a taxi, but to no avail.
I did the “finger thing” and voila-one stopped almost straight away.
Japan is a very structured,organised culture. This structured environment includes adult entertainment.
Here’s how it all works (in perfect harmony, I might add).
Japanese work very hard, but once 5pm strikes, they are all out in droves. First stop:a regular bar and a couple of “whisky water”s (drink of choice in Japan).
Then they want some “sexual healing” :).
First tier is what’s called a “Hostess club”. Girls are dressed in evening gowns and are well-spoken. All that takes places is conversation: there is no stripping or stage dancing of any kind. Gentlemen tips the lady for her time. If he wants to take the lady out for some more “in-depth” entertainment, he needs to first negotiate the price with the lady, then pay a “club” fee for taking her off the floor. Hostess club does not provide accommodation of any kind-it is up to a gentlemen to make the arrangements elsewhere.
Then there are strip clubs. Same version as western strip clubs: stage dancing with stripping and lap dancing in private areas,conversation in common areas,trying to get punters to buy a lap dance. A lot of Japanese men don’t speak English, so clubs have “house mums”,usually from Philippines who’s job is to translate between the client and the girl.
There are a lot of Filipino WGs in Japan-it’s great money for them. There was one named Dali in my club. Boy, was she talented: she had amazing stretching abilities. Dal would do splits on two stools set on casters: she ‘d start by standing on both (one foot on each) and then slowly moved them apart,going into a “hanging” split in the process!

Her and I became friends and once,in the dressing room, she showed me a trick. She inserted three ping-pong balls into her vagina (red,white and blue),then asked me which one I want to come out first. At my request, the blue one came out and it WASN’T the last one to go in!!

Dali was married and had 4 different boyfriends: none of them knew about the others. All four supported her fully and paid her bills (so she got 4 times the money). She was very skilled in joggling them,as it was hard work. She could also cry inconsolably at will (sometimes I wish I possessed that skill),as she demonstrated to me one evening. Dali was chatting with me in the dressing room,laughing ad giggling, when house mum came in and announced that one of her (Dali’s) boyfriend’s has just arrived. Dali told me to watch through the door: to my utter amusement she was sobbing and tears were pouring down her face inside 2 min! She told me before she wanted some money out of that guy, so she was telling him about her poor sick child (all fiction) back in Philippines.
Then there is a “blow job” shop. Exactly what it sounds like: gentlemen walks in, picks a lady from a line-up,they go to a private area and she sucks him off. Nothing else happens. There is no dancing,conversation or entertaining of any other kind. Average visit lasts about 15 min.
In Japan they have “Fantasy Houses”. Those are parlours, but with a twist. Gentlemen walks in and is greeted by a receptionist. He is provided with an album of photos: girls in different outfits, such as schoolgirl,nurse,etc.Prices are listed below the photos. There is a board on the wall behind the receptionist. On it there are photos of same girls,lit from behind. When a particular girl is in a booking,receptionist switches the light behind her photo off.
This way not much conversation required: guy walks in, looks through the photos,looks on the board to see who’s available, pays the receptionist and up he goes into the girl’s room. The actual girl is NEVER different from the photo: exact same appearance,hair colour and outfit (those are not interchangeable). Obviously, photos are updated regularly.
Of course, geisha houses are in a league of it’s own: iconic Japanese staple, they are exactly the same today as they were centuries ago-and you guessed it-no westerners allowed, those are strictly “Japanese only” establishments.
 Japanese actually don’t like change very much and try to keep their country traditional and true to it’s roots-that’s part of the reason they don’t like westerners with their brash,disrespectful,crude attitudes/behaviour.
All these establishments are not competing with each other,as strange as it seems: Japanese men know exactly what they want and they go to the establishment that suits their needs the best on a given day.
Sometimes they combine two or three.
For instance, right nextt to out strip club was housed a “blow job shop”. When a guy had a case of a “persistent wood”, he went there to sort it out and then came to our club for relaxing conversation, stage show and some arousing lap dances (coming into one’s pants during a lap dance because they were “hot and bothered” is unthinkable for a Japanese man-that “loss of face” I’ve mentioned earlier, definitely NOT like it was in Vegas,where punters often couldn’t make it to the bathroom or couldn’t be bothered…LOL..).
Sometimes guys came to our club first and THEN went to blow job shop for a quick relief.
It is customary in Japanese society (especially in “old style” families) for women to take care of the household and the children while men are working and “bringing home the bacon”. Men earn a lot, but they also give a lot of money to their wives to take care of everything AND to spend on themselves.
For instance, you could never hear a wife bitching at her husband about a leaking roof-she is meant to call appropriate contractors to fix it,as husband put plenty of money into bank account.
Men are often come home at 3am, reeking of booze, cigarettes and vomit (and someone Else’s perfume) and the wife is meant to clean them up and put them to bed, so they can get up in the morning,refreshed and ready to go to work. Any kind of complaining or questioning is considered scandalous and just is not done.
It is, obviously, different with a younger generation (but not all of them,as some choose “traditional” lifestyle).
Women are responsible for raising children and making sure they get a good education (as in do their homework and don’t fall behind on their studies). Special attention is paid to boys-family’s pride and joy.
It is known for Japanese mothers to have sex with their teenage sons, just to avoid distractions caused by sexual urges, so they (sons) could concentrate on their studies.
Women get plenty in return,though:in that same posh French restaurant where my host dropped $1000US for lunch, I observed 4 Japanese women dressed in designer clothes “doing lunch” and charging it, no doubt,on their husband’s credit cards. And you should see those gals shop in Ginza (Tokyo’s most expensive shopping district): whoo-peee and I thought I was a pro shopper… Hahaha.. Those women leave me in the dust!
Japanese are very honest: I’ve seen a guy who fell asleep at the train station with his wallet (expensive-looking,too), practically hanging from his inside coat pocket and no one was making attempt at stealing it: I was observing for about 20 min while I waited for my train.
There are plenty of perverts in Japan :). The most common form is for a guy to rub against female in a crowded train. Sadly, I am very  familiar with this phenomenon,as it was a popular pastime for sick disgusting men in my home town when I was growing up (only there they did it on crowded buses). One time this was attempted on me in Japan, I yelled at the guy and he didn’t know where to hide-he was so embarrassed…LOL..
As I’ve mentioned before, real estate is at a premium, so families often live together,several generations, in small,cramped flats. This poses a problem as far as sex is concern,obviously (no privacy).
But Japanese have answer to everything. They created what’s called “Love Hotels”. Those are very discreet and rooms could be hired  hourly or nightly.
As one enters such hotel, he is greeted by a board on the wall with the photos of the rooms (exact photo of the decor and amenities) and prices. The ones that are available have lights on behind them. Reception area is covered by a curtain,all the way to the ceiling, so no one can see anyone. You just press the button underneath the desired room and push the money under the curtain at the window. Receptionist (you only see their hand) pushes back the key.
The proper etiquette is to lower your eyes and not make any eye contact or comments should you happen to pass someone in the hallway.
Rooms are actually quite nice (not at all “sleazy”) and very fun. All the controls for the room are at the headboard of the bed (where two condoms are laid out as well-if you need more,it’s up to you). Rooms have a disco ball on the ceiling sometimes and various moving coloured lights,as well as “mood” music. More often than not you’d find a small vending machine in the room that has various dildos,condoms,toys,etc.
I quite enjoyed “Love Hotels” and remember them fondly :).
I really liked Japan and hope to return there one day for a visit. But it is a very unique country and some westerners find it hard to palate (literally and figuratively) 🙂

Good intentions (motivations behind people’s actions)

Yip, the old adage is true: road to hell is,indeed,paved with good intentions.
Often times we sincerely set out to do a good thing and it turns sour… Or our intentions are misunderstood… Or we don’t want to admit to ourselves that there was a hidden agenda deep inside the deed that on the surface seemed noble
Human beings are very complex creatures-remember Shrek and his “onion” theory? Well, I agree: we are all like onions: there are layers upon layers in all of us: some good, some bad,some thin and some quite thick..
Our motivations are often unclear to ourselves, yet alone to others.
For instance, when you contact a working girl (unsolicited) and offer information regarding one of the other working girls that was passed on to you by said WL’s EX-employer-what is your motivation? Do you genuinely want to warn the girl because you don’t want her to get in harm’s way? Or do you want to make a good impression on her and get into her confidence, so she’d share some other industry insider tidbits with you? Or do you simply hope she’ll give you “extra special” service with extras next time you see her professionally in gratitude? Or is it a little bit of all of the above?

Truth is, we want to look good and we want others to like us-it’s human nature. Someone I once knew said “I like to be liked and hate to be hated”-that’s pretty much it in a nutshell and holds true for all of us, whether or not we admit it to ourselves. We seek approval of our peers-it’s in our genetic make-up.
Trouble is, sometimes we go in a round-about way in order to get it.
So when someone takes a high moral ground on an issue, do they do it purely because they feel really strongly about it or maybe just a little because they want to “look good” to others, because it’s the fastest way to gain approval and admiration?
Personally, I no longer “ride the high horse” about anything, as I am well aware of my own shortcomings and I know all too well that once you start talking “high and mighty”, people automatically want to take closer look at you and start searching for flaws,as it is a “knee-jerk” reflex: “you are not so pure yourself” reaction. And let’s face it: none of us are without a fault (well, unless you’re Mother Theresa… and she is dead..). But I’ve learned this lesson as part of my life’s experience and it took me quite some time. It was a different story when I was younger: I was absolutely convinced that at least certain things are black and white and there is nothing in between….
Now I know life is, by far, not that simple.

Often times we want to be perceived as leaders, forward-thinking and knowing the “right” path for everyone.
We want people to look up to us.
So when an “independent”  WL suggests to the one working in a parlour that she should do the same (start working independently) and even offers to help her out with advice and maybe some client recommendations, what is her real motive?
Does she truly believes that the other girl would be much better off and just wants her to “see the light”? Or does she crave respect and gratitude? Or is she trying to get back at the parlour owner who didn’t give her enough credit and wants to prove to her that she is, in fact, mature,capable and able to lead others?
And what about the other girl? Does she feel offended because someone thinks that she doesn’t know what’s best for her? Or did she think about it before and realised that,for whatever reason, she won’t be able to do it and now is just annoyed that someone thinks she is not smart enough to think for herself? Or is she afraid of possible negative implications from her employer and just doesn’t want to admit it? Or does she truly like the situation she is in and is really comfortable with the way things are?

I found out long time ago that when someone doesn’t like you, it’s not likely to abate. Whatever the reason (sometimes people can’t even state clearly why exactly they dislike someone-it’s absolutely irrational), no matter what you say or do, they will remain entrenched in their opinion. In fact, the harder you try to prove yourself, the more animosity (and annoyance)  you create.
A lot of people like me… A lot hate my guts.. More still can care less about me altogether.. That’s life.
I just go with the flow: nothing I say or do will change that. In fact, I am like that myself: for example, there is a girl I absolutely cannot stand for personal reasons (to a point where I avoid working in a parlour where she is employed,despite of the fact that I really like the establishment and everyone else who works there), but objectively speaking, she is probably OK. I am not likely to change my opinion of her, no matter what.
Often times people try to pass their opinion on to others (consciously AND subconsciously). So when someone contacts a working girl and passes some information regarding her new mentor’s checkered past, what is their motivation? Do they genuinely just want to warn the girl and keep her out of the harm’s way? Or do they want to pass on their own personal dislike for said mentor and maybe sway the girl into their way of thinking? Do they even know what the true motivation is themselves?

The problem with passing of any kind of information is that it’s not likely to end with the person you’ve passed it on to. That’s another lesson I’ve learned long time ago.
No matter how much you say “Don’t tell anyone”, people will-again, it’s just the human nature. Even people who condemn gossiping, do, in fact, pass various information to others. They don’t think it’s gossiping because it’s “true” or they did it for noble reasons, or it was “absolutely necessary”, but it is what it is, no matter what the reason.
Information is valuable. It has been since time immemorial. Thrones and kingdoms were lost and gained through learning and passing of the Intel. In fact, espionage is, in my opinion, one of the corner stones of makings of the history 🙂
People pass information for different reasons: sometimes purely for gain, sometimes in exchange for leniency, sometimes for leverage, sometimes because we genuinely like the person talked about and want to warn them,sometimes to get ourselves out of the “dog house”,sometimes because we want to know more or just want to verify the facts-the reasons are so many.
One would think that every time we pass information, we are aware of consequences,surely?? You’d think so, but no, not always the case.
So when you get a feedback (or a backlash,as case might be), as a result of your information passing, do you get angry at the person you passed it on (especially when you didn’t specify that it was “for their ears only)? Do you not blame yourself first and foremost (especially when you offered said information unsolicited)?
I am guilty of this myself. When I was younger, I’ve lost a friendship that was was quite dear to me because of passing of the information. I didn’t do it maliciously, but through some really weird and round-about channels ( which I couldn’t even imagine in a million years) it affected my friend and she knew I was the one who said things. I’ve lost that friend forever. I have no one to blame but myself.

We have  to do what we have to do everyday to survive. It’s easy to be virtuous when you live by yourself in a far away castle and have unlimited wealth..LOL.. The rest of us, mere mortals need to put bread (and butter and caviar) on the table. In order to do this successfully, we need to co-exist with our co-workers and bosses and clients. And, yes, we often need to massage their ego and “go with the flow”-it’s just the way the cookie crumbles.
Often things are complicated and not at all black and white and we are forced to divide our loyalties and choose between  friends and colleagues/employers. Inevitably,we do what we think is the best thing for us,as we have to maintain the roof over our heads and often other people are dependent on us (such as our kids, elderly parents,partners,etc).  So can we honestly judge someone who took a public stand against someone who helped them in the past in order to get “brownie points” from their current employer? Do we really know what goes  through their mind? They might feel torn, they might even try to make it up to a person in private, yet others will never know, will they?
Happened to me before: I took a stand in support of my now ex-girlfriend against our mutual employer, although I didn’t necessarily agree with ALL points of her position and didn’t think she handled the situation exactly right. But she was my girlfriend, I loved her deeply and did everything I could to support her. I actually went as far as contacting local newspapers! Do I regret it? No, not at all-I did what I had to do for the loved one. Would I maintain the same position now? No, because we no longer together and she probably has someone else to massage her ego 🙂 and I can be objective.
That’s the nature of life: it is fluid-nothing is carved in stone. We entitled to change out minds and it’s perfectly fine. Some days we feel differently about certain things than others-it depends on our mood,personal circumstances,etc. And it’s OK.

We get quite involved in things that we do on a daily basis: our jobs, our hobbies-because we spend so much time engaged in those. We participate in related blogs, forums, discussions. We passionately defend out point of view and curiously explore unknown aspects. Often we attend relevant conventions even. It’s called “networking” and it helps us advance in our chosen fields, gain recognition and often reap monetary rewards.All of it is very important to us. It seems like it’d stay that way forever. But it doesn’t. When we switch jobs/fields/countries other things become relevant and important and they replace the ones from before.
It is very natural-we can only concentrate on so many things at one time and there are only so many hours in the day.
It doesn’t mean that we were falsely representing ourselves in that other field before-it just means that we’ve moved on and are now focusing our energies on new projects.
With time, others replace us and the cycle continues.
It’s the same in sex industry. Some girls gain quite high profile and increase their earnings as a result. It seems like they’ll stay that way forever ( good examples are porn stars..LOL..). But when they’re gone, others take their place quite fast and the old ones become a distant memory..
Some girls want to erase all traces of their past when they’re done with escorting. Although quite impossible  to obliterate everything completely in this day and age of modern technology, it is doable. In fact, new,”reputation repair” companies sprouted recently: a lot of corporate companies and individuals as well as celebrities, use them. What they do, in a nutshell, is for a substantial amount of money, they “pollute” Internet with blog entries,articles,etc about said company/individual, thus “burying” negative posts on pages 5,6 or further on the search engines, making it “invisible” for all intents and purposes,as we all have short attention span these days and who wants to “root” through 5 pages and look through every single post…
At the end of the day, it’s just another hooker in a sea of many thousands disappearing into oblivion, to be replaced by thousands more. It’s not like she found the cure for cancer or a way to resolve world’s economic crisis and then deleted all her findings…LOL..
I guess, sometimes people get really wrapped up in something they enjoy and they forget that in the big scheme of things whatever they’re so involved in might be quite insignificant.
We’ve got to remember not to loose sight of what’s truly important: people we love and care about. Life is short and tomorrow may never come. I have a friend who went to bed feeling great and woke up with failed kidney (true story). Do you think he thought about punting and hookers (working or retired) just then? I think not. Same when my Dad woke up one morning and realised that he couldn’t move OR speak (he had a stroke)…. Think about it….

Sometimes certain things really ruffle our feathers.. We feel very strongly and passionately about those. Sometimes people “rub us the wrong way” or touch the nerve… It’s perfectly OK to speak up, to fight back, to express our opinions. In fact, more people should,as honesty really is the best policy. But in doing so we should be careful not to cross the line into nastiness, we should remember that decency and civility are values,too and ppoisonous language doesn’t advance our cause.