DAY 7: military and 6th grade classroom detention

Yesterday was the worst day so far. Another drill sergeant lecture which started at the beginning of our shift. “You WILL wear that same outfit everyday til it falls off your body,if that’s the outfit that made you the most money. And you will NOT complain when I or the bartenders give you these ‘suggestions.’ After yesterday’s 2 hour lecture S found a weed roach on the patio outside and let us ALL have it. She was busy throwing fines all over the place and making examples of all the girls in front of the captive 6th grade detention classroom of 9 + 2 staff. It was horrible. She tried to give one girl a $500 fine for talking smack to another girl and she started crying and trying to defend herself. “If you don’t like it-you can pack your shit and get out!” she kept saying. “Don’t give me any of those tears, because I DON’T feel sorry for you, SUCK IT UP!” she said and then moved on to her next example. Apparently, I got mixed up into the whole thing because everyone was involved in this story of me letting some guy feel me up. When I asked the crying girl what “dirty hustling” in the kitchen the night before, somehow the story turned into that we were both in the kitchen talking smack about two of the other girls! She made sure everyone in the house knew that I was going to get a $200 fine for dirty hustling and I said,”Well, that’s my 3rd negotiation in a legal house ever, so if you feel good about taking my money then go for it, but I don’t agree with your accusation.” She asked why I was defending myself if I wasn’t guilty. I thought that was such an inane rebuttal, and repeated. “I have my period. Why would I want anyone to touch me down there?” The whole accusation was started by the house Playboy bunny breadwinner ratting on me for laying on my bed and letting some guy touch my THIGH during negotiation which is apparently unacceptable in this whorehouse because it is considered a start to your party, which makes it dirty hustling for some reason. You are not supposed to give anything away for free here, not show them your tits, let them touch your leg, NOTHING. Or else the other girls will see you during your negotiations and rat on you to make sure you get fined. This is why you have to keep your door open during these negotations. She repeated lots of things from yesterday’s lecture including the “If you think its so HORRIBLE here,then go try and work at another house and see if it’s better” bit.

“Did anyone call you up and ask you to come work here?”Aunt D said as she went around the room and asked people why they were here. For about 4-5 people they all repeated. “Because I need money.” “to feed my kids.” and was just fucking waiting for her to get to me so I could be a smart ass and say,”to see if doing it legal was better or not.”

We had a talk in her office afterwards. I found out that S has been in the military and had been one of those undercover decoy cops that bust the johns and ticket the working girls for smoking weed. I could NOT believe it. (I had a flashback of the decoy cop who arrested me. She was hanging up her slutty outfit in the closet while the other cop was questioning me). “You were a working girl cop while your mom was out here running the brothel?” I said. “did you do that to rebel against her?” “No,” she said,”My mom’s business needed the money, and those johns DON’T care whether or not they give those girls HERPES or AIDS or whatever!” Typical cop justification for arresting johns. She started to list off degrees that she had (law enforcement, military, nursing, etc, etc). and I had to stop her “Well, I have a MASTERS degree in education. I have taught kids of all ages K-12 for 3 years and I can tell you that the way that you are treating us IS negative and IS like children. We have nowhere to put all the negative energy that you have given us and then you want us to go out to the bar and SMILE for the customers?” “It’s just not empowering, you have two girls out there crying right now and I feel like this big,” I said indicating with my fingers how small I felt.”And I LOVE being a whore and I LOVE myself.” I said. She went on about how I was new to working in a house and that there was a big learning curve and I would get it. I told her that me and Amanda were very professional and very capable sex workers and we were experimenting with the legal model so that we could see if it was for us and honestly, I told her, it’s not looking like it truly is. “You wanna go back to working independent?”She said, “You wanna know what happens when you take a trick home to your house?” she said and showed me pictures of another girl who worked in the house who had gotten beat up by a client so bad that her eye almost fell out. “She can’t see at night now!” she explained her how much she loved this woman and that this woman loved her job too, but that this was the SAFE way of working. “It’s the best house there is, and I’ve worked at almost every house that there is.” said Playgirl. When S was trying to explain how Playgirl was conflicted about ratting on me because I was new, she said to my face,”Don’t worry, I would NEVER do you dirty.”

I hadn’t eaten a thing yet and it was already 2pm.

Playboy bunny was in the room while this conversation was happening because apparently she was bringing the two of us together because I had “confided” to her that I didn’t trust her because she ratted on me. S would always use PB as the model of the most professional brothel worker who never complained, always did her job and most importantly, made the house lots of money. She was gorgeous, definitely not bi, or even bi for pay and I did NOT trust her. She and the bartender made up this story about me to get me in trouble. I noticed that she never did any CB radio time. She was what Black hos with a pimp call the “bottom bitch” meaning she is #1. It was slowly coming together for me.

Finally this “private” meeting was over. I went to 1 of the 3 rooms we were allowed to be in in the house. I was starving. But, I was barely holding it together. Tears were on the verge of falling out of my eyes as I looked for the vegetarian groceries I had bought for myself and was cooking everyday. The 3 rooms were filled with other girls or customers. I heard one girl talking to S. “thanks for giving us that meeting, Sergeant S. Cause, you know, I am guilty of being ungrateful sometimes…” Oh man. That’s when I ducked into the pantry and let the emotions and negative energy wedged into my chest out-a little bit. Silently.

Suddenly from the closet I hear someone and Lisa talking about me. “She asked me for my number. She just was talking about the sex worker association with me, trying to get me to be a phlebotomist with them.” That’s all I heard and that was all that I needed to hear. Lisa is so loud mouthed, the secrets of the house are easily revealed by hanging earshot of her. For some reason,I thoguht it was Playgirl because I was now vilifying all her actions.

I was suddenly not sad anymore and “sucked it up” enough to feed myself and go back to the bar to make money. I looked outside the window at the beautiful clouds hanging over the Ruby mountain range and wished to the Universe that I could be outside sitting in the sunlight instead of this hellhole.

2 Responses to “DAY 7: military and 6th grade classroom detention”

  1. 1 aspasialibertine
    August 26, 2008 at 1:45 am

    Ugh. Shaunis sounds like a typical anti-sex work person when she paraded that one girl’s tragedy in your face to scare you away from independent escort work. I think your posts and Amanda’s posts need to be emailed to all the Conference attendees. This is just horrible.

  2. 2 Lia
    August 26, 2008 at 3:44 pm

    Good for you for getting out, Mariko. I’m sorry that it was such a horrible experience.

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