Sunday, October 05, 2003

Lesbian Whore

I am currently in Reno!

Why would I visit Reno's lame, wanna-be strip when I could be living it up on the real deal in Vegas? Because this weekend is the ol' UNLV vs. UNR game. I drove up here to visit Cornelius with G-funk and J-funk. The ride up started out innocent as a lamb, pure as driven snow, complete with a Disney sing-a-long, until it was rudely interrupted by none other than yours truly.

"Just a spoonful of sugar makes the medicine go down!" We sing gleefully, taking the corners a little too fast (which later resulted in a speeding ticket.)

"The best little whorehouse in the south, guys, we HAVE to go!" I proclaim, upon sight of the billboard, obviously a spin on the famous "best little whorehouse in Texas". G and J were game, and we pull off into a nearby gas station, where we decide to inquire as to where the famous whorehouse is. Since it was my idea, the responsibility of asking for directions inevitably fell on me. So while G and J were pretending to admire a stand of Slim Jim's, I was making a complete ass of myself.

Me: "So... What is there to do here in Pahrump? We're from Alaska, and we were wondering what the main sight is...?" (Now I'm trying to be tactful for once, and phrase this gently, so I don't have to blurt out- "We're looking for the whorehouse!")
GA (gas station attendant): "Well, you can gamble."
Me: "Oh no, that's okay, we currently live in Vegas. Anything else?" (I swear, it was like pulling teeth, just trying to get the man to say "whorehouse".)
GA: "Well, I'm not really from here, so I don't know...." (I hear distinct snickering from Joanna and Greta over by the Slim Jim display.) Realizing I had no choice but to go for it, I blurt out,
Me: "Um, aren't there, like, whores running around on the streets here? I mean, it is famous for being legal, isn't it?"
GA: "I wouldn't exactly say they're "running around on the streets"", he finishes, while fixing me with a steely gaze.
Me: "Look, can you just tell me how to get to the chicken ranch?" (GA staring at me like I'm a complete asshole, I mean, what's a girl like me going to do at the chicken ranch?) But he directs us anyway. We get back into the car, and boldly drive straight up to the front door.

A whore is dangling her leg lazily off the edge of the porch and sits bolt upright when she hears our car pull into the drive.

LW (lesbian whore): "Howdy ladies! Come with me into the bar and I'll get you started!"
Me: "Uh, get started on what?" I whisper to J and G as we follow her into a bar that is packed with whores in period costumes waiting for their "regulars" to show up.

LW is loud and proud and a little too interested in three school girls, if you know what I mean. She shows us her internet resume and presents us with a detailed "menu" of parlor tricks that we can order, should we want to venture into the rest of the house. At this point we're wondering how far we'll go to get a peak at the inner chambers, before we have to pony up some dough.

I decide the jig is up, and tell LW that we're really just there for the souveneir menu and a t-shirt for Cornelius. But in an attempt to press my luck, I ask if she wouldn't mind giving us a complimentary side tour of the sitting room and bedrooms where guests have been so famously entertained. She winks, conspiratorily, and has an animated discussion with her grand-pimp-daddy, begging him to allow her to break the rules, just this once.

PD: "Sorry ladies, the rest of the house is off limits unless you're a paying customer."

So that was the end of that. LW walks us out to our car and hugs us good-bye, (and J maintains that she tried to cop a feel).
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