Greasyjohn
Greasyjohn
Joined: Dec 8, 2013
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March 25th, 2015 at 10:44:56 AM permalink
You know, I didnít notice hookers when I was young. Now, I canít not notice them. But itís not eyesight that improves with age, itís how you interpret what youíre seeing.

Back in August 2011, I went to Vegas with a friend named Daryl that Iíve know since I was 14. As a matter of fact, this friend and I went to Vegas together on my first gambling trip when I was just 21. On this earlier trip we stayed in one of the motel-style rooms at the Stardust. But on this 8-11 trip we were staying comped at Casino Royale.

Casino Royale used to have natural quad vp coupons that paid $25. And there was a $40 coupon if the quad was one of three numbers, usually 6,7,or 8 or 5,6 or 7. I would play their 8/5 Bonus Poker until I got a 4OAK. If I was lucky enough to get the $40 coupon win first, so much the better, because then I could play the $25 Any-4OAK coupon. (But if I got the Any-4OAK first I would probably stop playing.) These coupons turned their 8/5 game into +EV. Casino Royale also gave you a $5 match play coupon and another coupon where blackjack pays 2:1 (max bet $25). I would play this coupon at their 6:5 game. +EV here too, about +2.25%. Get the blackjack and quit. Of course, all these promos came to an end a couple of years ago. But back in 2011 they had all these promos going strong.

There have always been a lot of working girls at Casino Royale. There was this one blond girl, her hair was long and straight with bangs in the front. Cute as sin. Looked like Janet Munro. If you were to take her out for a nice dinner it would be hard not to stare. You'd want to kiss her until you got your fill, let her magic possess you. We all have different ideas about what the perfect figure is, and for me this girl was it. She looked like she was plucked from some small Midwestern town--perky, sweet and pure. If a girl like this looks at you and holds her gaze and youíre old enough to be her father then itís time for a reality check. Sheís not attracted to you. Sheís hoping for an easy customer.

So late one evening in August 2011 I decided to play 8/5 Bonus poker at the bar. I sat down next to a Latino guy with his black girlfriend. The only empty seat at the bar. She was sitting next to meĖhe was on the other side. I glanced over and noticed that she played pretty good basic strategy. Itís pretty easy to start a conversation at the bar. I said something to her like, ďAre you winning?Ē I didnít say anything to make the guy think I was hitting on his girl. Just being friendly.

So we chatted a little, and the guy gets up and leaves. I thought he'd gone to the restroom. The girl says to me, ďThat guy was giving me the creeps.Ē I was surprised. Then she says, ď He said, ĎI guess youíre busy.í Ē

This girl had a pretty complexion and nice hair in style that complimented her tall height. Nice hands, long fingers. Filled up those jeans nicely. (I was stealing a glance.) And pleasant enough. So weíre chatting and I ask her what she does for a living. And she says she likes to have fun. Well, Iím pretty sure I know where this is leading. We continued to chat. She ask me the #1 hooker question: "Are you staying here?" Usually that's followed up with, "Are you alone?" I don't remember if she asked the latter, but it was revealed through our conversation that I was indeed staying here, and was with my friend. I also mentioned that I had a comped room at the Four Queens that I wasn't even using. (Room came with some match play or such, so I took it. Gave them some action to stay in good standing.) I probably mentioned this empty room because it kept with the theme of our encounter.

We talked about gambling and Vegas. We talked about ourselves. She revealed that she worked for some company answering the phone. After about 20 minutes or so this encounter had run its course. It was nice meeting her, but I'm not interested in a woman being with me because I give her money. I told her that I was going to get going. Then I said, "It was nice to meet you." She said, "How do you know?" I said, "I know. You're very cute."

So I left for nowhere in particular. But donít think I'm immune to sensual desire. If some beautiful, hot 20-year-old with luscious lips, flawless completion, legs you want to touch comes along, I can fall into the whirlpool of lust and bad decisions. Probably costs $2,000 to have such dreams. If she was with me my life would be only about that encounter. The past and future just time I had to endure for this fleeting joy I'm about to savor. But the fantasy is almost always better than the reality. If I could see a video of her last several encounters I'm sure it would leave me flaccid. You were with that guy?!

So as I left this working girl at the bar (sorry I canít remember the name she gave me) I was somewhat bored. Didn't really feel like gambling. I strolled over to Harrah's and walked around. Then I watched a craps game for about 10 minutes. Then I strolled back to Casino Royale and watched a craps game there. I might have bought-in but didn't quite have the enthusiasm. I looked over and noticed that she was still at the bar. I eventually strolled over to a bank of video poker machines near the Players' Club. So as I'm sitting there playing Bonus Poker, who walks by and sits next to me?

I was glad that she did. There's always optimism when the possibilities of sensuality and a new interest meld. As we sat there I was glad to be in the grip of expectation. I was glad that after I thought our flirtation had run its course, she didn't. As we chatted the conversation turned to how we might spend some time together. She brought up just going out and having fun and having some drinks at a bar somewhere. At the time, it didn't even cross my mind that she was "working." I had already indicated that I wasn't interested in her services when I said goodbye to her earlier. So when she sought me out again like she did I assumed she was just attracted to me. I mean, come on, how many working girls pursue a guy who already indicated he wasn't interested in her services? And hookers have to have some kind of personal life outside of hooking, right?

Anyway, when she asked me if I wanted to go out to a bar somewhere I was ready to enjoy her company. The allure was palpable. We'd have some drinks, some laughs. Maybe dance. I'd hold her close and let my hands gently feel her body through the texture of her clothes, feel her back and shoulders through her blouse, feel the strap of her bra, caress the sides of her waist above and below the top of her pants. I'd let my hand move gently down the small of her back, stopping just below her waist, both of us knowing that beyond lay the fullness of her creation. Looking into her eyes and they're not saying no. I wanted to have fun, wanted to feel my heart race! And the older we get the less often the train comes to the station. Next stop Naughty Town!

"Let's go." I said. So as we were walking to my room to get my keys I let her wander a few steps ahead of me to enjoy the view. The room was out of the question for any aerobics. If we were to go anywhere it would be to my empty room at the Four Queens. But this wasn't about that, it was about desire and romance. I was thinking of the fun that might lead to intimacy, not the act itself.

When we got to the room my friend Daryl was asleep. It's about midnight. He's snoring an alcohol imbued melody. He awakes a little to notice what I brought home. She asks to use the restroom. While she's in there the thought crossed my mind that she's calling some guy to come to our room and rob us. Can't help what comes across our minds, can we? As soon as they make that illegal we're all screwed.

Iím reminded of what happened back in 2008 at the Orleans. A couple of hookers had arranged to meet two guys who had a room there. When they were all four in the room an armed accomplice of the girls shows up to rob the men. They resisted and the armed man shot one of them in the abdomen. Guy lived. After I read about that story I actually called the Orleans and suggested they should do more to clean up their property. I had stayed there on several occasions back around that time, until the offers for comped rooms dried up. The Orleans used to have guards checking for keys at the hotel tower elevators. But the place still had a lot of ďactivityĒ. When crimes are committed against johns most johns donít press charges. Their wives or girlfriends wouldnít share their indignation. And coming back to Vegas to testify is a lot of trouble. PIs and the girls know that.

So back to my friend, me, and the hooker in the bathroom. She comes out of the restroom, and with keys in hand we head for the parking garage. As soon as I start the car I realize how foolish this all is. I allowed what I wished would happen to get confused with what would really happen. I had my fantasy about how this would go, but it was really all about her getting paid. So as we're driving out of the garage reality sinks in even more. I felt like saying how I'd made a mistake, how this was all a bad idea. But it was just too embarrassing to blurt it out when we hadn't even made it out of the parking structure. By extending the drive I could stretch out my foolishness. I headed south on the service road that used to run from Casino Royale to Flamingo and parallels Audrie. Pretty sure it doesn't go through now with the High Roller there. At Flamingo I headed west going nowhere. Small talk ensued. We got around to the business at hand and she asked me if my lack of enthusiasm had to do with the money. "Is it the money?" she asked. And I said "Well just out of curiosity, how much is it?" And she said, "$200". She said, "Come on, don't worry about the money. Just put it on top of the dresser and we'll just be together." Somewhere about a mile west of the freeway I had turned around and was heading back to Casino Royale. She reached over with her hand to see if a brief touch could jump start me. She mentioned that I seemed ready to go, but hey, it's my body and I wasn't feeling frisky. It's easy to go from frisky to foolish but not the other way around.

When we got back to the parking garage she mentioned something along the lines of having a party right there in the car. But I ignored the entreaty. As we walked to the rear entrance to Casino Royale she ask me to give her $20. I didn't make the effort. At no time during our encounter did I even touch her. She said, "Come on, you know how this works." But the way it works for me is that she made me an offer for her charms at a certain price, and I declined the offer. There was no agreement that just spending time with her would cost me a certain amount. That may be the way it works in her world, but not in mine. If at any time during our encounter she felt she was wasting her time she could have gone on her way. I feel in no way obligated to help her make that decision.

It just felt off to give her $20 for this experience. Our encounter all boiled down to grab the twenty and go. If the whole thing seems less attractive to her because she doesn't have my $20 then maybe that's as it should be. A part of me wanted our time together, for whatever value it had, to be real; about two people brought because of a natural, normal attraction, not a meeting the main purpose of which was to extract money. By not giving her money it wasn't about the money. But don't get me wrong. If we had an agreement that cash would be exchanged I would have paid her without hesitation. And really, she pursued me. I would not have sought her out after I said goodbye at the bar. So when I balked at giving her money she said to me, "Now when you gamble you're going to lose." And I said, "Well, if I do I'll come find you."

She turned to go into the casino, and I turned to go to my room.

You know, I just can't see paying for it. I want to be with a woman that wants to be with me without getting paid. And any great sex with a working girl would come with anxiety while waiting for the results of an Aids test or some other smorgasbord of lamentations. But we often aren't thinking clearly when it comes to pleasure and desire. Getting rolled or drugged. No thanks. Tread carefully. And if you ever have a similar experience that is more sublime, sweet dreams.
Last edited by: Greasyjohn on Mar 14, 2016
ams288
ams288
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March 25th, 2015 at 12:18:17 PM permalink
Thanks for the great read!

If it were me, I think I probably would have given her the $20.
Ding Dong the Witch is Dead
Face
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Face
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March 25th, 2015 at 12:29:09 PM permalink
Quote: ams288

Thanks for the great read!

If it were me, I think I probably would have given her the $20.



Same. $20 a reasonable fee for the fuel of a good story.

I'm with you, Greasy. Paying for sex takes all that is good out of sex. Sex is like a good road trip; only 10%-20% of the joy lies in the destination. Everything else lies in the journey.

Pointless sex is just that - pointless. Without the hunt, the pursuit, the game, the battle of wits, the battle of emotion, the lead up, the anticipation, the foreplay, the flirting, even the hottest piece becomes little more than a "thing", and that's not good for you. It's not good for anybody. Sex, proper sex, is more than plunging to explosion. It's a mental, emotional, and physical tempest that you have to create, and then get to live out. Paying for it is like starting at the finish line pretending you've put in the miles.

Those who can, do. Those who can't, pay =p
The opinions of this moderator are for entertainment purposes only.
Scan
Scan
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March 25th, 2015 at 1:18:34 PM permalink
Sounds like she earned the $20.... Good read though.
OnceDear
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OnceDear
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March 25th, 2015 at 1:25:10 PM permalink
Good read, thanks.
I think $50 for a hug as you parted company might have been a reasonable ending.
Take care out there. Spare a thought for the newly poor who were happy in their world just a few days ago, but whose whole way of life just collapsed..
sodawater
sodawater
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March 25th, 2015 at 1:30:08 PM permalink
deleted
Last edited by: sodawater on Nov 19, 2018
rxwine
rxwine
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March 25th, 2015 at 1:46:19 PM permalink
Quote: sodawater

You could have at least given her $20 for wasting so much of her time.



That wouldn't bother me in and of itself, but there is the consideration she could be working for a pimp who punishes prostitutes who don't come back with enough money.
Quasimodo? Does that name ring a bell?
aceofspades
aceofspades
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March 25th, 2015 at 2:02:16 PM permalink
Great read

I am glad I am celibate.
Romes
Romes
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March 25th, 2015 at 2:16:34 PM permalink
Quote: aceofspades

Great read

I am glad I am celibate.


The woman in red would beg to differ ;)

Also, great read =P
Playing it correctly means you've already won.
RS
RS
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March 25th, 2015 at 2:31:56 PM permalink
Interesting story.

You said something about "#1 hooker question" and "#2 hooker question" are "where are you staying" and "are you alone". What are the other questions?

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