Who's been to a brothel?

oh ok

 

Mustang Ranch back in the early eighties for the Win.

Though Jackpot was a easy trip from Northwest Wyoming in the seventies.

 

More like 4275/329,709ths of TW. But a very influential and detail-oriented 4,275 members.

 

All the good stories will fall under, “nah, I’ll keep that to myself.”

 

Or "don't want my other half to find this"

 

I'll keep the brothel story quiet.

But I will share this one.

Fresh out of college and less than a year into my first "real job," I was sent on my first business trip to gather samples off the coast of Cabinda, a narrow strip of land that sits between the two Congos. It's a long 4-leg flight there, with a number of terrible layovers. We had 8 hours to kill in Paris, which we spent soaking in as much touristy shit as one possibly can. Then we had 18 hours in the Angolan capitol city of Luanda.

We were supposed to sleep, but most of us were young assholes out of college, full of piss and vinegar. So we grabbed a staff car and driver, and went out club hopping. The senior tech held the company card, therefore we were drinking what he was drinking. And his drink of choice was this newfangled cocktail that just came into vogue - it was called a "vodka-red-bull."

Well shit. I remember the first bar where I tried it, I remember the last discotheque where we ultimately called it quits, but I don't remember anything in between. I don't know exactly how many vodka red bulls I had in my system, other than it being enough to jump start a diesel engine. It was the coworker that puked on the dance floor and got us all bounced (and nearly killed) that suddenly kick-started the brain into remembering things. I gladly walked outside to try to flag down our car while everyone else settled the tab.

I'm on the street, I caught the driver's attention, but he has to run up the block to retrieve the car. While he did that, I'm suddenly swarmed by two girls. They speak a heavily accented Portuguese, which doesn't matter, because I didn't understand any kind of Portuguese. I spoke a heavily slurred English, which doesn't matter because they had an equal hope of understanding me. But we had a very pleasant conversation nonetheless. It was mostly pointing at things in broad, grand gestures, and saying "how wonderful!"

Now these girls were incredibly friendly, one of them rubbed my back, the other gave me a neck massage, all while we were standing in the street, remarking on the wonderfulness of the generic apartment block across. I thought to myself, "what an amazing culture this is, just look at how generous and openly friendly the people here are."

Finally the driver arrives with the car, I hop in the back seat. The girls follow. It slowly dawns on me that the girls and the driver are yelling at each other. And finally he turns to me and asks "is she with you?" Ah fuck. The lightbulb finally sparked. In my haze I had accidentally hired a couple of street hookers.

I quickly shook my head no, and as quick as a flash the driver was suddenly outside the rear passenger door (he must be Superman), all I saw was his two hands briefly around each neck and then the girls were suddenly, instantly ejected into the black space that was outside.

Next thing I remember I'm at the hotel, talking to my newlywed wife over Skype and relaying an exact play-by-play of this story. That part was possibly the worst decision of the evening.

 

But you get points in the long run for the honesty.

Right? Please tell me you got points for that.

 

Eventually. It was a three week trip with limited coms. But when we next spoke (about a week later) she did appreciate the honesty.

 

A high school friend of mine used to drag me to topless bars, usually after hitting a night club and striking out. He was the type of guy that would get it in his head that one of the dancers really liked him, and he'd want to wait outside for them to leave after their shift. After a couple of times with them always having a bouncer with them he started getting a clue. So, that's when he started wanting to hit the "massage parlors" down off of Harry Hines in Dallas. I went into a couple of them with him with no intentions of getting a "massage" myself. The first one had a small selection of young but average-to-less-than-average looking girls with questionable hygiene. The second one had a couple of somewhat better than average looking MILF types (we were like 19/20 years old). He chickened out both times.

Not a brothel (at least I don't think they were), but I used to travel to Taiwan quite a bit for work. They have what they called "server bars" where you bring your own liquor and rent a room, and girls will come through and sit on the floor and pour drinks for you. There's a karaoke machine in the room if you feel like performing sappy love songs. I'm not sure if the girls do more than pour drinks, never asked and never saw any evidence of it -- the rooms have glass walls, so not really private.

Funny story from one of them: Many of the girls choose a name in English that is easy for Americans/westerners to pronounce and remember, or if their English is poor, they have someone provide them one. We were at this server bar with a coworker and his fiance (they do allow women to go), and this one girl with somewhat prominent front teeth that were turning blackish was trying to tell us the English name that someone had previously given her, and it was taking us a while to understand what she was trying to say. Turns out that someone had given her the name "Liquid Paper." That's just mean...but still funny.

 

Aw c'mon... "a friend did it."

 

I could think of worse...

 

Assuming she began when she was sixteen, that's 8300+ clients a year, close to 24 a day... 365 days a year.

I don't believe it, but it sounds impressive.

 

Unless it includes multiples and gang bangs, even that's doubtful

 

STD’s their specialty.

 

Stopped at the Area 51 brothel in Bumfuck, NV one time. My buddies and I had just completed 8/9 of our days on this road trip. By this time we had just had our first showers in the same length of time since we picked Vegas as our last destination before the long drive back to Oregon.

One buddy was already out. He refused to even go up to the door. My other buddy and I were super gung ho about going in and at least hearing them out before leaving. None of us were even single at the time so we didn't actually plan on partaking.

But as we approached the door, we chickened out. It felt like we were entering the sketchiest building we've ever entered. There was just a plain door with a keypad and camera above it. I believe we were supposed to page in, but we stood there at the door, trying to egg each other on, only to chicken out and go back to the car.

Honestly though, having driven by it on another trip recently, I think we made the right call. This brothel is attached to a gas station and gift shop. It's not the sketchiest I've seen in Nevada but it's up there. Due to the rural location too, I can only imagine the fine ladies they must have had working in there.

Anyway, I know that's a lame ass story but that's my experience with brothels so far lol.

 

This is a mature topic, not helped by silly stories. See attached. The girl’s age and the conviction are troubling, but listen to what the man says, and you might truly understand.

https://youtu.be/lIywrSMoWnE