Tag Archives: nevada

BB’s first fan visit…

11 Feb

A guy walks in with a certain glow in his eyes like he’s really excited to be here.
He picks me out of lineup.
He tells me how nervous he is.
He tells me he knows who I am…
and he came just to see me.

We talk about the prospect of sex…
nude massage…
But then he says, “I really just want to interview you.”

Uh oh. That’s the kinda statement that puts Bambi on edge.

He says we emailed. We’ve communicated before.
“Who did you come for?” I asked…

Hooker Interrogation style.
“BB.” He says.
(Code word for Brothel Babe.)

“What email do you use?”
He gives me the nickname.
It’s sounding more familiar.

“Are you on the message boards? What do you go by over there?”
He gives me the last nickname and suddenly, it’s all coming together.

My first fan!
Here to see me!
In the flesh!

This is amazing!

He didn’t just come from anywhere, he flew in, all the way from Kentucky!
Looks like I’m lucky today.

I asked him if he was flying in for other things…
But nope, he just decided to fly in at some point yesterday….flew into the bay area, rented a car, and then drove here.

He even brought me some chocolate.

At first we talked in the bar but when there are lineups and I am on shift, I’m not allowed to just stay in the bar and talk…so my first fan was glad to compensate me for my time, so we went to my room and chatted for a good half hour.

Yes! I got paid for my time…to TALK.

I know, that’s AMAZING! THAT’S WHAT I SAID!

Of course…there’s the worry. All it takes is one person and I could be immediately outed. I had personal items in my room that were a dead giveaway for my other life. Paintbrushes in a cup on the sink. Work I’ve done on the wall.

He had all kinds of suggestions for my art….We talked about the stuff on the message boards where my personal identity was revealed.

I told him if people want to go on thinking I am a fraud, that’s actually better for my personal life. The “Does she or doesn’t she?”  is the kind of rumor that our American Culture loves.

I told him I wasn’t really sure why people would think I am a fraud, because books cost money to make.

I told him, I know things because I have relatives in the book business. I know that my relatives had a dream of mailing off a bunch of books for promotional purposes to all of these people who they thought would like it, but when sales dropped because their publicist wasn’t doing her job, the money dried up, and they couldn’t follow through with it.

I told him about my little dream of traveling to places like Amsterdam and walking into the brothels and the sex shops and talking with the owners, in hopes that they would put my book on their shelves.

My fan/friend thought this was a good idea.

We brought up how people think I’m a fraud because I’m not rolling in cash.
I think they assume that most hookers are rolling in dough. Because I’m not…and its a regular topic of conversation…I must be a fake.

I’m fine if you go on thinking  I’m a “fake” hooker, but I am FOR SURE a real writer.

That’s how I felt anyway after my first real fan came all the way to Nevada to visit. Like the book is a real thing that’s finally happening…and if one person is willing to travel over 10 hours at the spur of the moment just to meet me…I look at it as a good omen of what kind of fans I have waiting for me on the other side, when this book is finished.

So you all know….I had pondered leaving work to go home today…and had I left this morning like I originally planned….my fan and I never would have met!

Those candies he brought? They were Chocolate Covered Cherries…because I was popping his brothel cherry. NICE TOUCH.

He did ask for a flash of boobs…which I was (of course) happy to provide. That was kind of how we said goodbye. 🙂

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Fan mail A go-go: I refuse to die here.

31 Oct

Excerpts from fan mail:

I have no idea what you’re schedule is like. I’m assuming that since you are not in Nevada and your blog alludes to you being ‘retired’ that maybe you’ve got something else going on, perhaps you’re dancing these days (or nights)?

I am not dancing.
I got a wig to use for web camming. Haven’t done that either. Too bummed by the idea. I’ve been sustaining on very little cash. Making my car payment on time. Not being too sociable in my efforts to save money.

I’m getting so tired of girls who want to label things and act certain ways because they think their supposed to and who over-think it all entirely instead of just letting things unfold naturally and remembering to enjoy themselves along the way. Seems easy enough, right?

HAH! You think you don’t want labels. Trust me. Guys like and need labels maybe more than girls do. I finally gave an “I don’t know….” answer to a “Do you want a boyfriend?” question, and I’m beginning to feel it was the worst mistake I ever made. The poor fellow probably assumes that if I don’t want to be his girlfriend immediately like every other gal on the planet, I must not like him. In fact the opposite is true. I like the fellow very much, yet, I am more cautious than ever about being used, falling for the wrong reasons, or getting hurt.

I’ve known a handful of girls who couldn’t really keep it together emotionally doing what you do but it sounds like you’ve kept it together very well. I’ve had to be there for several friends who fell apart in your line of work. It’s flattering when a friend calls in tears requesting my help spiritually but I can’t say any of my friends ever handled it very well.

When the money is great, I handled it like a champ.
I’m a huge cryer naturally and tend to let myself cry when I need to give a good cry. When the money started drying up in the industry, the tears were unstoppable – not only for me but for some of the most hard working ladies I know. The lack of money seemed to terrorize them from the inside out, their personal relationships…everything.
Unlike a lot of people, I don’t call up people in tears. I handle it. I cry alone. I deal alone. I hate to cry over the phone. I have way too much pride to do that. The last thing any gal wants to do is appear mentally unstable. Yet – can you imagine being at work for two weeks straight in a place where you live having SPENT more money than you have MADE? When the money is so scarce – that’s when you start to feel pitiful and you know you can do better for yourself.

I know I can make more money with my writing than I can as a ho. It will take time, but it is a leap I am willing to make.

Remember that no matter what your career is you should never let it consume you. I know you know how to remove yourself from your element even when you’re in your element but always make time for further adventures.

HAHA! Once again – I think I want what any normal person wants: I want my career to consume 38 to 40 hours of my week. I would love to make time for further adventures…but here’s what they don’t tell you in the University:

A person starting up their own business or make headway as an independent in their career, is going to work harder than they have ever worked, and spend more hours than they have EVER SPENT, in their whole life, on trying to break through to the other side. This is when you are multiplying yourself and taking on the equivalent of the roles of 3 or 5 people. You think, “oh I can go be social” ….but then something else comes up. A few more phone calls to make. A few more emails to send.

I’ve seen tons of start up businesses sink amongst my friends. The #1 reason they sink is due to their unrealistic mindset about the necessity of spending up to 70 hours a week on things in the first 3-4 months. Having grown up around a business, I’m simply too realistic to let things fail.

Plus, lets go into the fact that I’m a happy busy bee:  I have a greater understanding of how people work than most people. I have figured out some deeper aspects of my life, while I see my friends who are in their 40s and are “still figuring it out.”

I’ve seen all the drunken cuties, one night stands, meaningless sex, and all the fake friendships I need to see….probably for the next eternity.

I already know when people are ruffling up their feathers for the sake of getting into bed with me.

I already know when people are too scared to show their heart.

I can already tell that the majority of the typical population is not ready to be good friends with The Babe. Since they are not ready and will never be ready, its breaking my heart.

I need to get out of here.
I need to get amongst a crowd of movers and shakers who are happy
that I’m awesome, rather than scared shitless. I need to be around men who want to team up with me and conquer the world together.

I need people who don’t need miles of healing in order for their adventure to begin.

I am fuccccked up by dealing with the above process my whole fucking life.

I am ready to be the snob my mother raised me to be.
Otherwise I’ll probably die here.
Unless some fucker wants to step up to the plate and fall in love with yours truly….whether metaphorically or literally speaking…

I…
will…
die.

I got the Scarecrow’s brain yet I no longer have the courage to be the Tin Man around a bunch of Cowardly Lions. Its time for me to go.

BrothelBabe’s #1 fear: Secret identities 

29 Aug

Who knows?

Hypothetically, lets THEORIZE…
lets say a gal like me (brothelbabe!) told a lot of people about her “other life” and wishes she hadn’t.
Reasons why a gal might reveal her brothel status:

Because you want to put a wall between you and the other person.
As if to say, “Here is some drama in my life, here is why I can’t go to lunch with you, can’t talk wit you, can’t date you, can’t have a relationship with you, can’t fall in love with you.”

Because you want to take DOWN walls between you and another person.
As if to say, “Here’s why I’m great at meaningless sex, having affairs, and why I’m so goddamn candid. Here’s why I’m the most frank and forward person you’ve ever met when it comes to relationships….particularly taboo ones.”

Because you are tired of men trying to use sex as a tool and as currency.
“Please, dahling. I’ve heard every trick in the book and you making like you will help me get famous if I sleep with you is useless. Show me your private jet first and hand me a bag full of 80 thousand dollars. I’m a professional.”

Other reasons you might talk about this job:
– It’s too tiring keeping all of your lies and cover jobs straight
– The first year is unusually emotionally draining, and you could use a friend (or 30….woops) to help you cope.
– BECAUSE IT’S THE COOLEST FUCKING JOB ON THE PLANET. GIVE ME MY BADGE OF HONOR NOW!

Can you guess which reason my reason is? 😉

The conundrum facing Brothelbabe:
Suppose a gal wanted to start over. Pursue another life. Hypothetically Brothelbabe could be a genius of sorts. A modern day Leonardo da Vinci….who fears being discovered as a generic brothel ho. How does one cover their tracks?

This saga is TO BE continued…..
I love you.
P.S. My coworker cooked us all breakfast wearing an apron, a bra, and NO PANTIES, so we could all laugh at her completely exposed bum. GOD BLESS THIS JOB.
P.P.S. The security guard also had it with the brothel down the road who wouldn’t give him beers, so last morning he came in completely wasted, crashed here, and got so drunk that we painted his fingernails black. I love him.
P.P.P.S. I sent a letter professing my love to Mr. Wrong….which started with me talking about this guy who wanted to fuck me, but instead of fucking the guy, I was thinking of Mr. Wrong. Isn’t that romantic?