A cultural study in wearing more clothing: More= more.

4 Oct

My 10 day stint back home consisted of a wildly unexpected and chaotic series of events which ultimately resulted in having to sever a friendship with a person who at one time I cared for very much.

I dislike having to sever friendships when people get unexpectedly chaotic. Really though – the friendship was a by-product of…nice things I did for somebody because I wanted to be in a relationship, can’t right now because I’m busy being a prostitute, and thus, when I was “ballin with mad cash” – I was a little too nice to somebody in need. Ultimately doing the kinds of nice things that should be reserved for…people who actually love you back.  It was “wreckless kindness” at its finest, and had to come to an end.

Which left me here. Tired. Worn out. Needing a boost. Needing a lift.

Needing valium.Which I don’t have…but I did learn that Ativan is the equivalent to a buttload of valium.

And you might be like, “oh, you have a problem Bambi, you are self medicating.”

Um. No.

Said meds were prescribed a doctor. And its not like I can go out and get laid to “forget about it.” because, I’m already here, getting paid to get laid. You can’t just forget about shit when you have significant downtime in this place. You can’t go have a vengeance fuck, because here, you have to be nice to people. I was an asshole for two days…it was affecting my business…and I hadn’t moved on to the wise choice of forgiveness. So – it was about forgetting.


I decided to indulge in retail therapy.

I’m not a dress wearing kind of girl but somehow I found an amazing online sale and thought dressing like a girly girl might be a nice change. I actually bought the clothes to wear at home…but seeing as I am never home…and I wanted to feel the effects of retail therapy NOW, I overnighted that shit, right here to my ranch! A big ass box awaited me a mere day and a half later.

I wasn’t going to actually WEAR the dresses. But I was too apathetic to strut my stuff with my ass hanging out in a bikini. Plus I’ve bonded so much with some of the staff here, I thought it might be nice for them to see how I would look dressed as a normal person who looked like she was going on a date, rather than a prostitute.

Turns out, I make BANK dressed like a normal girl going on a nice date.

I told my manager I was going to wear dresses for a week just as my own personal study to see if I made more money in dresses than I do in bikinis, and so far, it’s paying off. One guy decided to bone me twice in a day, one guy summoned me from all the way across the room, and one guy paid for a bungalow,  no problem. I’m attracting those mythological “big fish” that I thought didn’t exist.  

Oh. P.S. Last weekend was fucking shitty money wise because there were not one, but TWO shootings in Reno. Because nobody wanted to get shot by a Hell’s Angel or a Va-whatever, they decided they didn’t feel like going out and paying for sex either.

In conclusion…my retail therapy has resulted in quadruple the amount that I actually spent on said clothes, and I’m not even a week into my “Week of wearing dresses” test run. GO ME.


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