Archive for the 'legal' Category


no contest.. (same as guilty)

Your charge is escorting without a license. How do you plead?”event_64988091

“No contest.” I said softly.

“Can you speak up?” the judge said

“No contest.” I said. Reluctantly. I should have said. “No, WAIT. That is NOT what I want at all. I would like to FIRE my lawyer and go to trial with a public defender.” Like the dramatic “I don’t” vow that comes at the chapel scene of many a Hollywood movie marriage. But I didn’t. I came upstairs still wanting to fight, but again my lawyer and the public defender available that day, urged me to take the deal. There is a chance that your case could be dropped, but you would be gambling, she said. I took the deal that I said I would never take. 18 months probation, pick up garbage at the beach and highway for 4 days (or go to jail for 4 days), mandatory AIDS testing and ‘education’..

“You’re honor, I was an HIV outreach counselor when I was arrested and I have a 40 hr certification to do Basic HIV testing from AIDS healthcare foundation…”

It didn’t matter the judge said. This type of thing is standard for these types of arrests.

Just because it is standard does not mean it is justified, I thought but did not say. Even saying that I was opposed to the mandatory testing of sex workers and the felony charge that is imposed on sex workers who test positive for HIV. I am opposed to everything that I have been going through. I am opposed to the lack of individuality that the convicted get, the belitting process of having a lawyer be the mouthpiece of your fate, and that lawyer being responsible for pressuring you into decision that really aren’t what you came there to do. Lawyers are the master of double speak.

“This is your case, and I cannot tell you what to do.” They say and look at you. But you could be convicted and spend up to a year in county jail…[take the deal, take the deal.]

I woke up this morning and cried tears of anguish and frustration because I realized that it was over. My fighting had come to a halt and there was no taking back the words that I said before the court. I felt resentment towards the public defender, who was not willing to try to fight this case with any fervor, her main concern was trying to protect me from a prostitution charge which I had already agreed to endure if it meant that I could change the way things were looked at or handled in LA county. I will forever regret that moment, my decision, how I caved in under pressure from the system, and all the time and money I spent trying to fly in a private lawyer to defend me when he was the biggest fan of me taking the deal all along.

I think of the male escort in SWOP who fought his charges for a year and WON.  It is not so easy to fight and fight.  It takes a lot of inner strength (FEARLESSNESS), lots of support that many of us don’t have, and of course…MONEY.

I just simply ran out of resources. I couldn’t pay for the expenses to go to trial. I still owe my lawyer money for just his expenses. To take this case to trial I would have had to fly him down to LA for a week and put him up in a hotel. We were prepared to do that. Until my sugar daddy dropped me, right before the crucial point of being able to feel confident that I could continue this fight for myself and for other sex workers. But he didn’t believe it was a good cause, he told me,” I would rather feed mouths that can’t eat.” He said. And so I felt that he, too was responsible for the immediate halt of the hopes for a trial. I cried in desperation for help for this and other looming financial crisis, and he cut me off the very next day. “You’re wasting your time with SWOP” he told me. [Unpaid activism is your problem]

To a certain extent, I believe that it could be seen as a problem and I’m sure people told Jesus Christ that he was wasting his time when he should be making a decent living as a carpenter like his father.

Mentoring young activists into the sex worker movement is extremely rewarding. Doing outreach to college students and drug using sex workers in ways that they had never experienced before is my reward for enduring the bullshit of criminalization. Most of my time and energy goes into directing the non profit SWOP-LA. I am a fool for continuing day and day out to work for the greater community, the marginalized and voiceless of even the greater sex worker population simply just to create social justice for us all. I am fool for risking my mental health and life just make enough to survive and pursue my dreams, one of which is sex worker rights in LA.

In my activism, I have felt like Jesus lately. I was ready to go to jail if I thought that it would change the perception of how prostitutes were viewed or treated or convicted. I am positive people thought he was wasting his time and I’m pretty sure he didn’t get paid. I felt like Martin Luther King Jr. because fighting a prostitution charge is a form of civil disobedience and not many of us are willing to even try to take their cases as far as I did and even the Dr. did some time in the clink.  I wish I could have sat like Rosa, but no. Lately I feel like I am always regretting what I did not do in situations…

I still feel like I wasted my time, energy and money on a case that will go down in history unnoticed. I will regret my decision for a good while. I will resent everyone that could have lent a hand to help me but didn’t, including this bitch who is in charge of creating the first ever diversion program for prostitutes in LA. She creates this diversion program patting herself on the back that she is helping prostitutes stay out of prostitution. She handles a pilot program of street walking younger mostly Black women who have been arrested multiple times. If they complete a diversion program their cases will go unfilled as if it never happened. Only the arrest will remain. She could have put the good word in and let me into her program, but she wouldn’t. She said, “Ms. Passion is at the planning meetings because she wants to legalize prostitution and we feel differently than that.” She, the judge, the system fail to see the humanity of some of the women who do sex work every day. She feels that having a criminal charge record will sure teach me a good lesson. She does not see the inherent relationship between legalization (decriminalization) and human rights for sex workers. Not that diversion is the best program for either johns of working girls, but what it does is save you from a criminal charge and allow more employment doors outside of sex work (which they claim to want) to open for you. I believed and tried to get my lawyer to believe that advocating for one’s own diversion program by volunteering for a non profit (like SWOP) helping mentor and educate and do harm reduction with sex workers would be a huge step. But I did not and could not achieve that. Not even with a private attorney.

Money should not have been a factor since public defenders are not only local but they are free. But they call them,”public pretenders” for a reason. They don’t fight for you, they just help you shuffle through the system guilty but with lesser punishment. I was going to go to trial with my private attorney. But I lost my sponsor for the trial and so I lost hopes for continuing to fight this year long battle. I couldn’t even afford the expenses that were associated with flying him down for a trial and housing him for a week. I only would have a 25% chance that the case would be dismissed. In retrospect, I wish I would have gone for it. I came up from the car ready to fight with the public defender, but the two lawyers were shaking their heads saying take the deal and then in the next sentence saying,”It’s your case, I can’t tell you what to do..”

It was extremely aggravating. Just got a crisis line call from another LA masseuse who got busted at her incall. I think the case before me was a skinny skinny Thai boy who got busted for massage without a license…it will only end until we stand up and continue to fight.  But I honestly feel pain when I sit there and tell people to stand up and fight because I tried it and felt like i lost.  This whole ordeal has cost me almost $2000 of money that I really never had and I ended up just taking a deal???  Escorting without a license.  Probation, AIDS test, beach clean up for 4 days…that really not only helps LA as a whole, but teaches me a lesson, and I will never ever do prostitution ever again..

I spent all of Wednesday, frantic and depressed. I can barely work. I am a mess. On top of that, I am still all PTSD from that incident with the agency that I last posted about. . No disability for sex workers.. My boyfriend has been great through this..but he is broke too.


San Francisco PROP K action report

What an amazing experience this has been so far.  It has been really really interesting to be involved with this proposition with all the sex worker activists that I came into this work with during the MEASURE Q initiative in the City of Berkeley that Robyn Few spearheaded in 2004. So much has changed in 4 years with me, my work, my other work, and where I stand in the work.

REgistered to vote in SF, for the first time in 8 years, I initially got excited about this election because I wanted a person of color to be president.  But I think I’ve stepped back from the media machines that both of the two sides are pumping out from the ears at full speed ahead that I’m not listening anymore.  I’m all about PROP K, all the way.

The first time I did this in Berkeley with them, I was pretty negative about sex work, just quitting stripclub stripping and facing that transition which would lead to some difficult times, but then just meeting Carol Leigh and Robyn Few as they started SWOP with Measure Q.  I couldn’t really talk about issues or argue points like I can now.  I was completely inexperienced and not nearly as passionate about things as I am now.

When I am tabling or talking to the people about sex worker rights or SWOP it seems easier in some ways than talking about PROP K because guys will ask,”Are you a prostitute?” and I say,”Yes.” then they say,”No way.  Get out of here.”  and I say yeah, and PROP K is about decriminalizing sex work simply by voting yes.  Then as if following a predictable script comes them hitting on me for sex!

I hate it.

It is far less powerful than sex work itself.

Why? Because on the street, in most normal interactions, I realize that men and patriarchy in general have more power, when talking about sex or sex work because for some reason, they seem to be better at offending women not the other way around.  However, most of the volunteers have reported being criticized to their face about the issue, their perceived gender or sexual orientation I’m sure and it hasn’t really phased them.

dressing like a hooker for activism has always been my specialty..

dressing like a hooker for activism has always been my specialty..

Every article I’m reading about Carol Leigh quotes that she’s been raped when she was a sex worker in SF.  What a horrible line to have to read and have googled about you over and over over.  This campaign makes all of the sex workers involved feel especially vulnerable!  More vulnerable than if we were campaigning in lingerie like [I] usually do.  In fact,perhaps sometimes the shock value of porn and prostitution and post porn modernism are what make them powerful.

We are deliberately de-sexualizing the issue to appeal to the masses!  (And i just called Obama a sell out, but in similar ways, we are doing the same thing).  Politics is like that,isn’t it.  It’s an interesting thing for me, because most of my activism is in your face, raw stripper aggression removed from the darkened club for post modern effect, but most days I am in jeans, a t-shirt and “pretty” face (make up/contact lenses) awaiting potential client calls for work so I can afford to stay on in SF working on this issue.  But, if there is anything that has been driven home with me getting *detained* for passing out flyers on a college campus about PROP K, and about getting arrested by undercover cops who were milling around the BDSM convention that we were doing outreach at, is that LE and their henchmen are everywhere, and therefore, even if prostitution is decriminalized, it will still be for the most part, done discreetly because sex for most people is a private issue (which is our qualm with the laws in the first place).

Remember that scene in Pretty Woman where she walks through the hotel lobby in her thigh high boots and her buddy the concierge gives her some pointers about how to fit into the straight world?  Well, the reason why dressing like a streetwalker makes good art is because in the real lives of sex workers, you CAN’T and DON’T dress like that in the places that you most often do your work..Keeping it ambiguous is the name of the game, and the reason why you can’t tell how many sex workers there are or how much is actually going down (although I can spot the hos in the hotel lobby right away).  This incognito is not only because of the laws against us.  There are times when you want attention around your sex and times when you do not.

I think the magic of being a sex worker is that it is a form of drag that I can put on and off by choice, and although when I perform I dress in sexy clothing, I am removed from people in that they understand that it is a performance, so most of them keep their distance. In talking to people face to face, they don’t.  You seem to have to find a way to fend off people seemingly sexually harassing you.  The stigma of prostitution is far from removed, and that is what you are dealing with when you are doing these talks.  When I was talking about my fundraiser and telling everyone I got arrested, boy that was wayyy vulnerable times. (Some people felt sorry for me!) I hated that too.  If I was in victim mode, I wouldn’t be going around town hustling donations for my legal fund.

I used to reflect on this when I worked as a stripper at a stripclub (and at Burningman).  I missed the freedom and power of dressing sexy like that so I kept performing sex work through my art and music so I could keep shopping at stripper stores and wear 6 inch heels!

And even though, I am seemingly telling the world through this blog and my music and art that I am a whore, I’m really NOT even telling my neighbors, or the person driving in the car next to me..They might know, or maybe they’ve seen an ad of mine on the internet, but don’t want to say. (because then the vulnerability is on them!)  I don’t always look like a stereotypical whore and when I do, most people wouldn’t even assume that I am sex worker for real because they just don’t go there, especially with people who seem to have self esteem, confidence and ownership of their sexuality..

Tomorrow we are going to talk to people visiting and coming out of jail.  If more people of color were mobilized around this issue..Obama’s not outreaching to the pocs but I am going to!

Dialogue about PROP K is all over the radio and TV.  Having to hear the ignorance that they are spewing is very difficult.  I don’t know where we stand on our fight but we are doing as much as we can.  We could stand to have more people working on this issue and we are definitely hurting for funding, but considering that we are a small, self funded team, I think that we are winning!


Freedom, Independence and Autonomy

as I drove along the open road the next day away from the brothel, away from all the bullshit I had endured, every tree, every mountain, every cloud seemed to reach out and give me a hug or a high five. I got out of my car and took a photo of myself: free, independent and in control of my body and sex work once again.


Cautionary Words from a Brothel Survivor::but still a sex worker activist

Sitting in a motel head spinning from what just happened. I had just been kicked out of B’s brothel. While I was in my room with a customer, someone had opened my laptop and poured tabasco sauce all over the keyboard and trackball pad. Mostly the latter, which was good because only the spacebar is the most damaged. I ask the people in the kitchen if they had seen anything. They all acted dumbfounded. I go to the living room. Lisa gets up and starts to get angry for me. “who the fuck spilled tabasco on Passion’s computer?? That’s some SHADY ASS shit right there, you BITCHES.” She is moving through the house asking everyone for me.

The computer was open to the post page I was writing, entitled “DAY 7: military and 6th grade classroom detention.

I was cleaning my laptop and girls took turns getting things like paper towels and q tips and I asked ALL of them if they did this as they interacted with me. All were empathetic and helpful. I sat in my room shaking. I did not know what to feel. I was angry but just in shock. I called Scarlot Harlot, my whore mother in crisis moments and beyond. “So, you’re going to leave, right?” she said. I sighed and accepted this as the last straw. “Yes. I said. “I’m leaving tomorrow.” Start to make plans to exit. Call Sharon in Vegas and arrange for a place to stop on route back home to LA. While I am talking on the phone in my room, bar manager comes in seeming concerned. “what time do you think this happened. When was your computer in the kitchen?” she said. I put the person on hold. “between when I was in my date and 10pm. “I said emotional but not in any tears. I am making frantic arrangements to kick my [trouble making] subletters out early so I could return home.

15 minutes later the bar manager opens the door. “S was just here. She wound back the tape [of the camera in the kitchen] and you were the only one near your computer. No one was in kitchen but you during those times. So I get to ask you to leave. I get to watch you pack and make sure you return the remotes. I get to check you out and give you your money WITHOUT taking the 25% for being asked to leave.”

“Wait a second.” I am even more in shock. “You think I did this to my own computer?” I said.

“I’m not saying what I believe or don’t believe. I am just doing my job.” A TRUE HENCHMEN SPEAKS.

“wow. This whole house is fucking crazy. That’s fine. I was going to leave tomorrow anyway.” I say and start to head to the closet to slowly process what is happening and start to pack. My heart is pounding out of my chest in the way that it does when I am about to get into a fist fight, when I got robbed, when I got arrested by 3 male cops busting through a door…The adrenalyn was making my head spin and my body tremble.

I am now in a motel, unwinding by writing all of you “conscious sex workers” out there who were seduced by the charm of the seductive sales pitch of a manager disguised in feminist clothing, to SLAP YOURSELVES ACROSS THE FACE, because you don’t even have to be similar to Amanda or me to see that labor violations and militant management are not a good addition to intentions to adventure and prosper in sex work settings.

S asked me if I had ever had a pimp in her office, and I was thinking in my head,“Yeah, lots of mostly stripclub managers, but never someone like you who truly believes that they are the total opposite, but are exactly the same evil in a different outfit.” She then showed me photos of the other woman’s face all beat up to scare me out of being an “independent.”

“You wanna take customers to your house and see them on your own??” she said,” You wanna know what happened when B did that a customer damn near TOOK HER LIFE??” waving the photos at me.

The women here are sleep deprived and working around the clock for about $2000-$10,0000 a week for 130 hours of work (emotional, body movement control for 13 hours a day x 10) in 10 days. Most make about $2-3000, which means about $2-300/day. Can you make that much or more as an independent or even agency escort? Many can. In fact, many street workers can make more than that, but there are that come with it the increased risk of arrest and [different kinds of] violence. The legal brothels waive their legal status as their carrot so that you feel like you NEED them to make that money.

Now I know how WAGE BONDAGE (keeping wages until the week’s end to make sure you follow rules), light deprivation mixed together with FEAR conditioning and bodily control by restricting freedom of movement and REQUIRING movement at the sound of a loud FIRE ALARM like BELL every 20-40 minutes does to you. I too was still thinking of staying a few more days,making just a few more hundred in exchange for my freedom. But the tabasco incident happened, which was all the better but still really really dirty and stupid. Amanda’s window to her room opened onto a padlocked and gated “patio.” I read this and still I went. (Maybe we are two very different people with different boundaries..I’ve never worked with Amanda…in fact I don’t even know her that well!) I cleansed my mind to open, even after reading her blog, but still the same, if not worse of the nightmare ensued for me. This and even worse is going on in legal brothels all over Nevada, Australia and more.

I’ve had my period for several days while working there. Today I bled a little puddle on a customer and he wanted a damn refund. The Instead cups sometimes get tilted to spill when a penis is thrusting it. Oh well, he sees blood. He had already fucked me though! I usually tell fools like that to eat my bloody pussy or “Hey,surprise, female prostitutes bleed sometimes. Sorry to break the fantasy for you.” There ARE NO REFUNDS in prostitution! But management gave him a damn refund. This is where the ambiguity of charging for the hour not the sex act comes in handy. In that hour, you can give head or a hand job if you are bleeding and they don’t get recourse because you never promised any certain kind of sex. Well, that’s how I roll anyway. I don’t love all my clients, especially when it means I would have to compromise control over my boundaries during periods or not. In most sex work establishments with fucked up management, expect the customer to always be right. However, in the stripclub that I worked the longest at, working girl was always right. Bouncers would usually take out issues on drunken customers who exceeded a girl’s boundaries, this might seem like a good thing, but, bouncers can easily take this one out of control as well. But this practice, in general, meant that clients were always TRICKS at the end of any argument, and your pussy power was kept intact, in control and in the highest regard. This is not the set up for this brothel,and I get the feeling that most are built on a reputation of customer is always right, which doesn’t always stand in line with sex workers rights.

Another part of S’s lecture was about how “you will give that customer an $80 party and give him the best party of his life,(meaning you get $40 for fucking) and not complain about it because he might come back when he has more money and give you a $2000 party.” speaking of the girls who complained about a customer only having $80 in his wallet.

Aunt D called us all in to the kitchen and swore up and down that Bellas would never take your money for that kind of thing..we all bleed. She said she gave HALF of his money back because he would spread word to all his trucker friends, so she took money out of her own pocket to keep his mouth shut. But we will never take money from you girls for that..” When I was checked out they charged me $150 for bleeding on a customer. That was my 50%. They issued a refund from my half!! I didn’t argue as I left the office with my measily $600 for 7 days of what I deemed as emotional hell. (this was not even my expenses for getting licensed to be a card carring ho, gas money to get here or gas money to get back. My rent is due again on September 1st and my lawyer needs to get paid by the 5th. BUT, I am free. A sex worker activist brothel survivor. Getting abused by pimps or systems of abusive pimping does cause trauma in the same way that any other domestic violence or workplace violence would, especially if you have previous stuff to deal with. Melissa Farley has bits of truth in her very one sided view, except that it isn’t the sex work itself that was traumatizing, but the way that it was mandated to be done. Bella obviously does NOT understand the concept of sex worker rights. They tried to destroy my laptop, but I it didn’t stop me from writing THIS BLOG to the rest of cyberspace. She doesn’t know that I have successfully filed LABOR CLAIMS and WON against EVERY strip club that I have worked in. So this brothel shit is LEGAL. Great. That means I can get my money back for the sex work I did, and charge you for damaging my laptop and hold you accountable for the rest of your BULLSHIT. Management is ex cop and ex military. She used to dress up like a ho to ARREST guys and now she is literally wielding her power trip on the other side of the tracks in a little family owned brothel in nowhere, Nevada.

I am on my way home. I am not worried about money. It will find its way back to me. I have my freedom. I would take working illegally and getting arrested ANYDAY to being enslaved by bonded wages, (they keep your money til the end of each week, so they can DEDUCT heavy fines out of it as a threat) lockdown house which is like JAIL anyway just more time. I know that this brothel is not unique in the system of legalization and now I know that I am not cut out to work at another one, which I’m sure owners and brothel hobbyists will be more than happy that I plan to not try again. Amanda said that she will try another one, which is great, like I knew before, we are different workers and you, reader are also another person who may feel and experience differently. However, I hope that you can take a stand against abusive, extorting stripclub managers, escort agencies, brothel owners and recognize the difference between abusive pimp and sex work manager. Stand against debt or wage bondage and psychologically abusive work environments. Sex work does NOT ever have to be like this.

Alright drivers, 10-4 good buddy, I’m headin home. Back to LA. OVER AND OUT….


Can’t post day by day-but IT SUCKS-don’t come here.

Don’t come here if you value your sanity, freedom, and self respect. Rules have changed and it has become like a boot camp, 6th grade classroom and jail. I don’t feel safe posting here while living and working here. It’s hell and I am really unhappy. Hoping to last until Friday. I cry all the time. Will post in detail later, after I leave as I will probably not return here or ANY legal brothel in Nevada again. Amanda, you were right…


DAY 5 and 6: Rules, Regulations and the Red tide..

Yesterday I did about 7 or 8 line ups and still not picked! I would come through to the bar to see if I could talk to the couple of guys that were in the bar, but the other girls would tell me that the guys in there were local firefighters and didn’t have money to spend. They usually come in and try to sleep with the bartenders (who aren’t that hot) for free. What a great hustle that is. I guess it does start to get to you any time you aren’t making money in any sex work situation, when people around you are making money and you aren’t. It also starts to get to you when you can’t even get laid in a whorehouse! So I stayed in my room and got more creative work done. It costs $35 for room and board here (3 non vegetarian meals included).

This house has been full of non stop emotional turmoil since I stepped into it. One of the girls is a street survivor with four kids. The only other way that she has worked before this was with a pimp that she had for 17 years. She just got a phlebotomy degree and I told her it would be great if she started her own business going around to all the brothels in Nevada and doing those damn mandatory tests that they need to get done monthly. I really want her to become an activist and am going to try to recruit her to do some work i harm reduction at the Sex Workers networking event that we are having in Miami. I see her light and hope that she follows me out of this place…

Another one of the girls, who I found out is going to start singing in a show in Vegas 6 nights a week lost her mother TODAY. She was crying too. Yesterday I, too was barely holding it together because I also just broke up with my boyfriend of a year and the lockdown and constant supervision doesn’t allow me to medicate my depression with marijuana like I am used to doing at home. Smoking helps me not get to susceptible to the harsh edge of life’s ups and downs. I can handle life sober, and am doing so here, as well as playing the guitar about an hour every day which is great because I had gone at least 4-6 months without touching it once. I didn’t think that it was too unbearable…until today.

New rules and regulations and a house meeting which lasted almost 2 hours. S was chastising the captive audience of 10 working girls and 2 staff like we were in 6th grade detention. It went on for almost 2 hours without any dialogue or debate. On and on she went about how ungrateful some girls were for complaining about the food, or the lack of customers or the lack of money that we made. On and on she went about how some of our rooms smelled like trucker asshole and how we never took out our garbages. She made comments about how if we were on the streets we would probably get arrested 7 or 8 times and we would probably get HIV. The fear factor was definitely a huge part of this lecture. Instilling the fear that there was no way that we could ever find any better working conditions than where we were right now, and if we dared to complain about it, we could pack our bags and try to find better. On and on she went about how drinking and smoking pot made us fat and lazy. On and on she went about how people need to keep their mouths shut about other people in the house. On and on and on… How we wanted to be in our rooms all the time and use this like a hotel. She had said that only one other house had more customers than this one, that was the Asian brothel, and all the girls there were from overseas and had to pay huge debt bonds. It was the most blatant example of how pimps and madams become trapped in that power position where they feel that talking down to, criticizing or literally beating up their workers is the only way that they are capable of listening. I’ve yelled at my students like that a few times, but only for 15 minutes max. This was why this house will never grow and the girls who live here will continue to behave in the same way and the lectures like this will repeat endlessly. Growth, dialogue, social justice and mutual respect are non existent. She used to be in the military, she used to be a cop and now she was a madam. Go figure. Her background is totally evident and well suited for the brothel model of management.

So new rules required us to stay in the lounge or bar during the hours of 11am-6pm. From 6pm-3am Thursday-Saturday we had to be in the bar, Sunday-Wednesday in the bar until 1am. This was incredibly painful for me, except that I had my guitar and could ease my mind on practicing my chords endlessly instead of do nothing, since I don’t smoke cigarettes or like to hang out in bars drinking. I DESPISE 2nd hand cigarette smoke actually, and being in Nevada where there is alcohol served 24/7 and smoking allowed in bars and casinos statewide, I would just have to power through it.

The neighboring brothels manager came over and tried to get into it with S about our girls being on their CB radio time. That was a totally immature scene where she kicked the other woman out even though our girls were in the wrong for being on their radio time. I’m learning that arguing with her is a waste of time, even if she is wrong. Everything is always your fault or your lack of following directions or trying hard enough. She waits for you to get riled up and start raising your voice and uses that as an excuse for why she doesn’t need to listen to you anymore.

I just got a fine for “dirty hustling” a customer, which means simply allowing him to touch you in the bar or during negotiations in your room. The bartender accused me of allowing the customer to touch my pussy, which is complete bullshit because I just got my period today and hiding the big red tide is the whole point of prostitution on your period. In the bar I put my leg between his legs, and apparently that is not ok either. Coming from a stripper background and being that the bar part of this hustle reminds me so much of stripping, it’s hard to imagine that you have to keep your hands and their hands away from you. I wore my “whore” bling necklace to line up and they told me to take it off. Apparently, even in brothels the word whore is not ok.

3 wasted redneck brothers came in and harassed/entertained us while we doing our mandatory bar time. I got one of them for a quickie and another trucker with tattoos like me and got the small hot tub room which was great so I made a little bit of money today finally. No impressive amounts of money yet.

I learned more brothel wisdom about kitchen sponges and make up sponges as tampons you can use and have sex with. On my first day of my period I bleed through most heavy tampons pretty quickly so make up sponges weren’t really cutting it. A taught me how to put the dental floss around the make up sponges to make a make shift tampon. Aunt D was tutoring me on cutting the green part of the kitchen sponge, but thankfully one of the girls that I gave the dental dam to returned the favor by giving me Instead cups which last all day, you can fuck in them and its been tested to be used in the vagina, unlike the first two. When I escort, I cut the string on a tampon and just do hand jobs and blow jobs instead of full sex but I knew that in the brothel I wouldn’t be able to get away with that. Today was full of bullshit. I am dreading the reprimand conversation that S is going to have with me tomorrow where I will have to fight for my right to keep my 50% of the money I earned. My patience is being tested further and I feel like my brain has been sucked back into the brothel cavity where it had been succeeding in resisting. Now it is feeling more like a mix of jail and boot camp. One of my only friends in the house, the only other woman of color, is leaving tomorrow.


B’s brothel::Day 2

Today was medical clearance and business license day. I set my alarm for 8:30am because the manager said that we would be leaving early in the morning but she didn’t get me out of the house until around 12pm. I drove with Aunt D to the biggest town, which is about 40 minutes West on the I-80. This is the biggest town in the area and is where Wells folks go to Albertsons, Bank of America, Home Depot and all the corporate amenities that Wells doesn’t even offer close to. Everything was easy, cost money but was not a problem. Most importantly, I was treated with respect by every single person that I had contact with and no one flinched or looked at me any differently as Aunt D ushered me through the new girl process of being a working business woman in a brothel..

I got to talk with Aunt D for a while and get to know her which was nice. She is a spiritual person and a philospher type. “Girls come here to heal…”she tells me. She cooks meals for girls here and does a lot around the house, kind of a house mom type and has been doing this for about 15 years.

Medical Clearance consists of HIV/Ghonorhea/Chlym/and HEP A/B if they workers have never been to Elko County before. However, after reading what Amanda had written on her testing experience, I wonder if they only wanted to run a Hep test on me cuz I was ASIAN. I told the nurse that I had been vaccinated for HEP A/B but she didn’t tell me whether or not she was going to run the test anyway or not. The policy of the brothels is to let the girl work when she is waiting for her test results to come back. This means that she will have seen 3-5 guys if she is positive for any of the above diseases and the brothels and customers wouldn’t know (or care). This could read to some as a horrible red flag, but then when thinking about how non brothel sex workers work constantly without knowing their status or the status of their clients, or how workers work while positive for any of the above, it shouldn’t matter under the sex worker rights stance of social justice, right? There is a WINDOW PERIOD for everyone, mandatory testing is NOT fail proof and is actually just a form of harm reduction to be used in addition to condoms and other barriers so why should I or others trip if I am allowed to work during the waiting period? In fact, mandatory testing is VEHEMENTLY OPPOSED by many leaders in the global sex workers rights movement.

I’ve met more of the girls today, talked with a few of them, watched the daily procedures, sat and ate with some of them, learned how to do a brothel standard “dick check” with wet naps/alcohol and gloves and got a sense of what at least one girl was charging ($800/hr, $400 for a half hour) and what girls were NOT accepting ($150 for sex/bj for 30 minutes). I got a sense of their attitudes around “tricks” by listening. One super hot blonde girl walked in today. She is the hottest girl in this house so far. (besides me, of course 🙂 It was too hot to use my magic Client oil to invoke the power of the universe for prosperous clients…but upon my first bath here, probably tomorrow, I shall..

I have been in my room doing the same computer research and writing and art that I would be doing if I was in LA. There isn’t a proper desk so my back is killing me but I think I could easily keep myself busy here between line ups because management doesnt mind if you retreat into your room and do whatever you do. At Sherri’s ranch, they take your laptop and apparently you must wait in the common waiting room for 12-13 hours with the rest of the girls. (no,no,no couldn’t do that for long..) Today I posted on the nvbrothels discussion board and on Reno’s craiglist (it’s 300 miles west but hey, people are travelling, surely).

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