Wednesday, December 29, 2010
Yesterday was the first return to normal. Audrey did not come in, which only confirms our suspicions that the only reason she did show up last week was to pocket some spending cash (at our expense). I talked to Cindy and Trina and we figure that she probably took almost a third of our total customers for the week.
One of you guys asked what tricks she was pulling to get away with it. Well, she pretty much tried all of them in the book. Her favorite was just taking the next guy through the door, regardless of which girl was up in the rotation. Trina said on Wednesday day shift she took 3 guys in a row by just taking over the front desk and telling Trina she would call her when the next guy came in. She said after the 3rd customer she was ready to just put on her jacket and leave she was so pissed.
Another trick of Audrey's is to just tell customers that she's the only girl there. That one works best on the phone. Then she just makes sure that when he shows up, he doesn't see any of us. I used to fall for the old "Could you go out and get me a pack of smokes?" routine. Then I'd get back just in time to see one of my Regulars coming out of HER session room. Then to add insult to injury, he would sometimes think I blew him off!!
The best thing to do to keep anyone from stealing customers is to just sit and stay at the front desk. I did that last week and even so, Audrey would pull rank with "I got this one..." I was seeing red at the end of each shift. I swear, we were all ready to walk.
And poor Maude... The front desk is usually her domain during the working day. But ever since that blow out over the Christmas decorations, she would just hide in the back office. Talk about uncomfortable. You could just feel the tension whether you were in the front or back of the building. Ugh.
But apart from the fact that work totally sucked all last week, my holiday was good. A long weekend of family and friends. And let me tell ya - all my nieces and nephews were LOVING their Aunty CJ. Thank Gawd I took care of most of the shopping BEFORE Audrey got there and cut our tips in half.
This week before New Years is usually dead. We've gone back to a 1 girl per shift schedule, and will probably stay this way till the end of January. So now we spend our time eating Christmas cookies and fruitcake all day. The one and only good thing about having Audrey around is that she would bring in treats she made herself. If there's one thing we can all agree on it's that even though we all hate Audrey's guts, that bitch can cook.
Saturday, December 25, 2010
Wednesday, December 22, 2010
This past Saturday, I was covering the day shift with Maude. The morning was going just fine when guess who walks in the door...
Audrey. Back from the dead after 9 months. I speak to her on the phone about once a week, but this was a total surprise. I could tell by Maude's reaction that she was expecting this little visit but didn't bother to warn me.
At first it was all a kissy-kissy lovefest. But when things settled down and Audrey got down to business, she went into total bitch mode. First she explained that she was here to "help" us out during the busy Christmas weeks. "Help?" I asked. Last time I spoke to her, I said the workload was just fine and that the 3 of us were handling it just fine. But I guess she saw the numbers from Maude and that greedy little bitch thought she could drum up a little bit of extra spending cash at our expense.
Now I know that Audrey still owns The Business and I have absolutely no right to complain about her wanting to work. But come on - to just show up unannounced when we have a full schedule and basically take away HALF our customers each shift? That's bullshit. And when I say that I'm being generous. That motherfucking cunt has pulled out ever trick in the book to take all the good customers this week and stiff us with all the therapeutics and cheapskates. It's almost like she came out of retirement with a vengence just to remind us who's really the boss around here.
And that wasn't even the worst of it. From the moment she set foot inside the door, she wanted all the decorations to be torn down. She started by telling Maude to "get rid of all this crap" on the front desk. I winced when I heard that because I know how much the decorations mean to her. Heck - it was all I could do get her to take down the lights and move the tree.
Audrey tore into her sister. And let me tell you, the got into it right then and there. I've never seen Audrey yell that much before (not including some of our fights of course). But when sisters fight it can get ugly and personal.
When it was all over, I had never seen Maude that upset before. And that's when it occurred to me - Maude takes this job seriously. Sure - to some people she's just the lady that schedules handjobs and cleans the toilets. But to Maude - she's The Office Manager. And this job didn't just give her a steady paycheck, it gave her a purpose.
I know that sounds funny, because most people would say Mother Theresa had a "purpose." But I guess when you've spent most of your adult life sitting in a trailer staring at a TV, then it's a lot easier to find a purpose. And The Business became Maude's.
I'm not gonna fault her for it. In fact, I'd be the biggest hypocrite on the planet if I did (instead of the top 100), since I've made a career out of this place (and a decent one at that). I guess I just never figured the front desk to be important since that's not where the money is.
So I've been trying to cheer Maude up this past week, which is not easy considering it feels like death around here - what with most of the decorations being taken down and Audrey here almost every shift. We're all stressed out with all the tension in the air - and Christmas almost here. Luckily, we're closed for the 3 day weekend. I don't expect Audrey to come back since it's usually dead until the end of January. So we'll just have to suck it up till then.
But if it makes Maude feel better, maybe I'll encourage her to decorate for Martin Luther King Day.
Wednesday, December 15, 2010
Another reason why things get down is because the customers are all pretty moody. Most of them are grumpy because they've been on a 3 week spending spree and they're broke by the time they get to us. Around Thanksgiving and hunting season, everyone is still in a good mood because they've still got money. But by mid December, customers start turning into the Grinch. And now every session all I hear about is how expensive everything including THIS massage. Hey - I gotta buy presents too buddy.
So this year the mood is different because the place is decked out and we actually get to feel like we're doing something festive. And you wanna know what the biggest hit has been? Our holiday getups! Turns out the guys appreciate our little festive atmosphere. I don't know how many times I've been asked to keep the Santa hat on (and nothing else) during session.
But what's really been interesting has been the holiday lights. Trina got all of us these battery powered necklaces made up of Xmas lights. So this new trick we do in the room is to turn the lights down and wear just the necklaces.
For a topless, I'll drape the lights around my neck and across The Girls. For the most part, the guys love it because in the dark the only thing they can pretty much see are these multi-colored breasts moving around the room. Another thing I've tried is tying the lights around my waist during a nude massage so my butt is lit from above and my breasts from below. One customer called it "sexy as shit" because the way the lights and shadows move made it very teasing.
On another good note, 2 customers have commissioned me as their personal holiday shopper. I spend my down time at work on the laptop digging up gift ideas and placing orders. So ladies - you may have to thank me for that "perfect" holiday gift from your spouse this year.
I'm actually gonna miss it when we have to take everything down next month. Between that and business going dead (it usually does in January) it's gonna get depressing around here really quick.
Friday, December 10, 2010
That's the voicemail I got from Cindy the other day. When I first heard it, I didn't know what I found more shocking - the fact that there's a Christmas tree in the lobby of The Business, or that Cindy managed to use the F-word and "Christmas tree" in the same sentence.
First off, our lobby isn't that big, so I really couldn't picture where a tree would fit. And second, why on Earth would we need tree there? It's awkward enough for our customers to have to wait between sessions, but to make them sit and stare at a Christmas tree too? Our customers are usually here at this time of year to escape the holiday season, not wallow in it.
When I came in to work yesterday, I discovered that Maude, our resident Martha Stewart, kinda went overboard with the decorations. I explained to her that the little plastic snowmen on the desk were one thing, but this giant tree dominating the front entrance is something else. She was hurt at first, but after some negotiating she agreed to move it to our break room. We had to remove the table to squeeze it in there, but it fit, and Maude even had fun redecorating it.
Personally, I love Christmas and don't mind the over-indulgence here at work. It's in stark comparison to Audrey's bare-bones, sterile, bah humbug attitude of last year (and the year before and the year before...). I mean she never really did anything festive around here. And when you're stuck here 40 hours a week, you welcome anything that cheers things up.
So having her sister here managing the place is sort of a breath of fresh air. She keeps the place super clean and she takes care of all the mundane chores. And now as we've discovered, she takes her holidays very very seriously. Thanksgiving for example - she decked out the lobby in fall decorations and even taped a giant cardboard turkey on the refrigerator. It looked like a kindergarten class around here. But when the woman vacuums the floors and cleans out the fridge - you really can't complain.
Then Christmas rolled around. Maude brought in 4 plastic crates filled with Christmas decorations. When I asked her how she could afford all this she said not to worry - these are all her "extra" decorations from home. Let me tell ya - that must be some decked out trailer. I bet you could see it from space.
Not only did she stick an 8 foot tall tree in the lobby, she also put up garland around the desk and lights in the window. I'm not exactly a grinch, but I did make her take down the lights. I had to remind her we're a massage a parlor, not a Hallmark store. But overall, she's definitely lifted the holiday mood around here - which is usually depressing. I bought a necklace made of Christmas lights that runs by battery. And we've all been taking turns wearing a Santa hat when we're on the front desk.
Heck - we're even thinking of doing a secret santa this year! Of course it can't be that secret when you only have 4 people in The Business.
Thursday, December 2, 2010
It's the perfect gift when you think about it. A guy can come in, pick up a gift for his mom, get his own holly jollies, and cross 2 things off his Xmas list. Then when his wife asks him later if he took care of his mother, he can look her square in the eye and say quite honestly "Oh yeah, I took care of her."
But that's not the most interesting thing to happen around here this week. The other day I had a customer come in carrying a large shopping bag full of boxes. I asked him what the deal was, and he said he was there to barter. He opens up the bag and pulls out boxes of cool stuff including:
Cell phone accessories
Apparently this guy runs kiosks at several malls and he was doing a supply run. He explained that they specialize in high profit/high turnover stuff just for the holidays. And let me tell ya - even I was thinking "I could use 2 of those, and 3 of those..." Sure, the stuff is mostly crap made in China, but there isn't anyone on my list who couldn't use a snuggy or a remote control car.
So I asked him what he had in mind, and he asked "so whadya do around here?" And I have to admit that I was sooooo blinded by all the shiny goodies that I broke erotic massage protocol and discussed options and extras at the front desk! Let me tell ya, if this guy had been an undercover cop then lock me up because I pretty much gave up the entire store.
"I'll take my top off for one of those monster trucks and 3 snuggies."
"Are you kidding me? I can't keep these trucks in stock. They're like gold. How about you also waive the door fee and I'll make it 4 snuggies instead?"
"I can't waive the fee - my boss would fire me! But let's say I did.... that's gotta be worth what, 2 robot dinosaurs?"
"2 dinosaurs? You're killing me! OK, for that I want the door fee waived, full body massage, you totally naked, and a blowjob."
"Nice try baby, but I don't think you have enough snuggies and dinosaurs in that truck to get a blowjob. However, I might give you a breast release if you throw in the monster truck, the dinosaurs AND one of those helicopters..."
He gave me a confused look and that's when I knew I had him. I explained to him in VIVID detail what a breast release consisted of. And to seal the deal, I made sure to stand up and slowly unzip my hoodie. The visuals worked, and he finally just said in a defeated tone "follow me." We went to his truck and inside was a motherlode of gifts for Christmas. We settled on our final exchange of goods for services. Basically, it turned out to be enough stuff to cross off a significant portion of this years gift list. Heck - he even helped me carry it to my truck!
I can't wait to see my nephew's expression when he opens up that giant remote controlled helicopter on Christmas. I only hope my sister doesn't ask "So how much did THAT cost?"
2 ounces of baby oil and 5 minutes of my time?
Tuesday, November 30, 2010
Business this year was bad. Good for November, but bad for a Thanksgiving weekend. Friday and Saturday nights didn't need 3 girls on schedule. We could have gotten away with 2, and the days may as well have been 1. My Erotic Economic Indicator says that Christmas is going to be a cheap one this year.
The one interesting thing from this weekend is that we definitely had a Black Friday crowd. Let me explain...
I opened The Business early on Friday. Usually it's Maude's job, but she was out shopping all day and was scheduled to close. Anyways, when I got there there was already a guy waiting out in the parking lot. I unlocked the doors and started my morning routine - turning up the thermostat, firing up the oil bottle warmers, and checking the phone messages.
That's when I noticed there were like 3 hang up calls from the night before and about another half dozen from that morning. There was a knock on the front door and I saw the guy who was waiting. I let him in and he admitted that he had called once about an hour before to see if we were open. Turns out he was one of those early morning bargain hunters, and thought this was the perfect excuse to be out of the house and dropping large amounts of cash without anyone noticing.
So I'm guessing that all those hang-ups were from his fellow bargain hunters. But midnight on Thanksgiving - seriously? At that hour you should be home in a turkey induced coma - not out cruising for someone to choke your chicken. Then again, if you're willing to camp in front of a store for 8 hours in the freezing rain for the chance at wrestling a little old lady for a $99 TV, a little manual stimulation may be in order.
Mr. Early Bird made a joke about whether we had any Black Friday "specials" going on. I actually thought that was funny. By the 4th time I heard it that day, it wasn't so funny. And by the end of the night I found myself saying "Please don't make the joke... Please don't make the joke" whenever the front door chimed.
But apart from all the work crap, my weekend was pretty good. Had lots to eat on Thanksgiving at Mom's house. Played with all the kids and caught up on gossip. And I even managed to do some shopping on Saturday before my evening shift. So overall, not a bad weekend.
And now begins the mad rush before Christmas. Now remember guys - giving the gift of massage is an excellent choice for your spouse. And we do offer gift certificates! Just make sure you include the tip. Not kidding - everyone forgets to throw in an extra $20 for the therapeutic gift certificates.
Now go out there and shop!
Wednesday, November 24, 2010
Once again we've reached the beginning of the holiday season with Thanksgiving - or as I like to call it - The Mother Of All Massage Weekends. It's kinda been a tradition for me to convince all you guys out there to go find your local massage parlor this week. So today will be no exception.
For all you newbies out there - you're probably wondering why this is the busiest weekend of the year for us here at The Business. Well, erotic massage is one of those self-indulgent treats that relies heavily on 3 things:
And what other holiday provides these 3 things in abundance? Where else but Thanksgiving puts millions of cranky guys (urge) on the road (opportunity) right before the big shopping season (money).
So there you are... 2 hours into a drive that normally takes 45 minutes, heading to the house of that cousin that you never really liked, and with a wallet that hasn't been bled dry by holiday gifts for people you barely even know. Then suddenly you see it - a neon sign in a window that says "Spa." Things start going through your mind... "Should I or shouldn't I? Heck, I'm late anyways. And I could really use a massage. Perhaps I'll just stop by for a minute..."
And THAT is why this is our biggest weekend of the year.
Most of our customers this week will be newbies travelling for the holiday. But we also get lots of returning Regulars who want to do one last thing for themselves before they go broke over Christmas. Both Trina and Cindy will be here doing double shifts. And I think all 3 of us will be covering both Friday and Saturday. Heck, even Audrey hinted at coming in to "help" the last time I spoke to her. So any of you guys lucky enough to stumble across The Business this weekend will have a variety to chose from.
Heck, even Maude has gotten into it! She actually decorated the place in Thanksgiving stuff. Little paper turkeys on the walls, decorative flower arrangements, and even one of those Horn-o-Plenty things on the front desk (or "horny"-o-Plenty as Cindy kept calling it all week - which was only funny for about 10 minutes then it got old really really fast). Now all we need is for Maude to show up at work dressed as a pilgrim and we'll be set.
Hmmmmmmm.... Maybe I'll offer a special "Pilgrim and Indian" role play option this week. I'll wear a feather in my hair. And nothing else.
Thursday, November 18, 2010
Anyway, I checked in with my girlfriend who runs her business out in the burbs. Those raids 3 weeks ago scared the shit out of all her girls and it took a while to get everyone comfortable enough to come back to work. Luckily they seem to have escaped any unwanted attention. However, she now tells me that a local town is drafting a new ordinance targeting massage parlors.
It works like this... Basically it's requiring all the girls to be licensed and prove citizenship (which is just a rehashing of state law anyway). This citizenship bit obviously targets the AMPs. It also limits the hours of operation so any unlucky guys who absolutely positively need a massage at 1am will have to cross the border to Jersey (which I guess is fine if you don't mind your masseuse having 6 inch nails and being the color orange).
Normally, rules like this wouldn't affect places like The Business since our hiring paperwork is clean and our hours are not suspicious. BUT this new law will require the town to personally inspect each parlor for compliance. THAT is the clincher. It's really a golden key to get you unlimited access to any suspected parlor. I'll bet you money right now that most of the parlors around here wouldn't even be able to pass the cleanliness inspection, let alone the citizenship tests.
Needless to say, my friend is worried that these new laws will work their way to neighboring towns, including hers. I'm not too worried about it since this is probably just some bullshit publicity stunt leftover from the election. The town authorities probably had to write the law to fulfill all those campaign promises they made a month ago. At least with a police raid all you have to do is waste the cops time for a couple of days until you get your name in the papers for being tough on crime.
I had a similar discussion with a customer recently. He said my theory on crackdowns before an election was BS because there was a nationwide bust of a gang-run prostitution ring just AFTER the election. So why would the feds wait a few days to do their raids if it's so good for politics?
That's because if you're a local mayor/police chief/councilman/etc., the LAST thing you want is the feds stepping in and basically embarassing your local cops by doing their job for them. An FBI raid just shows that you have no control over crime in your town.
And how do I know all this you ask? Well, you gotta talk about something when your customer is a lawyer or a cop (or even a local politician!).
Tuesday, November 16, 2010
She reminded me of a whole class of guys that I never really considered as freaky. They are the shavers - guys who ask you to shave them down. Now I did a FOTW a while ago on a guy we call "Captain Haircut" but his deal was very specific and ritualistic. What I'm talking about are the guys who want me to shave them down with a razor.
I haven't had a request for this in a couple months, but when I do it's no big dea since we have the showers for easy cleanup. Shavers ask me to shave their body, backs, pubes and balls. Most common request is balls and pubes.
Since I classify this as a fetish, I charge an extra $100. We keep disposable razors and shaving gel in the back closet for just this occasion (or another special request where I shave myself - but that's a whole other story). Then we just throw everything away when we're done.
There's usually no massage involved and we just get down to business. I'll ask the guy to take a quick shower first since it helps with the whole shaving process. Then I'll have him lie on the table with a couple extra towels under his butt since it's going to get messy. Next, I'll take some shaving gel in one hand and gently massage it into his pubes and then his balls (if I can remember - I try to stick the container in the bottle warmer before we get started to help make this part more pleasant). I'll fill a cup with some hot water from the shower to keep it handy to clean the razor.
When he's good and lathered up, I'll start by shaving his balls. I've discovered that this makes for good foreplay with a Shaver. I've done this often enough that I even have my own technique of gently manipulating the skin of his sack so I get a good close shave. And all that attention to the balls usually gets him nice and aroused for the next part.
So when he's all cleanly shaven down below, that's when I'll take my well lathered left hand and slowly wrap it around his cock. Then I pull it down and out of the way (and if it takes me a few tries before I get a good angle at his pubes, he never seems to mind). With my right hand I'll then shave a patch of skin, then "reposition" his cock with my left. So in essence the customer gets a sort of alternating tug-n-shave. But I always hold the dick perfectly still while doing the actual shaving motion because the last thing you want is anything moving around when you're using a razor.
At this point, some Shavers might have an "accident" during the shave - which is the point I guess. So that's why I try to help it along because I get to kill 2 birds with 1 stone. But usually after I finish the shave, I offer to do the happy ending immediately while they're still aroused and not wait till after they've rinsed off in the shower. Some guys don't even ask for the end part - they're just happy with the shave.
After the happy ending, I'll clean them up real quick with a fresh towel and send them back into the shower. With the remaining few guys who prefer their handjob after the shower I have to be extra careful because sometimes the oils we use will irritate their skin. Nothing kills the mood faster than a guy jumping up and down, holding his junk and yelling "That burns! That burns!"
Told ya we should have done it with the shaving cream!
Thursday, November 11, 2010
Someone sent me this comic today and I thought it was hilarious. It got me thinking about all the guys who ask for our "cheapest" option. It was never really an issue back in the good old days, but for the last 2 years we basically had our own version of a Bargain Basement Special.
The 15 Minute Option was made official by Audrey when business had all but tanked a couple years ago. I mean we each had our own personal version of it, but it was kinda hush-hush. The problem was that the shortest session we offered was 30 minutes, which means that it cost at least $30 just to walk through our doors. Then on top of that, our cheapest option is topless for an additional $80. So the cheapest session with happy ending was a total of $110.
Then Audrey cut her prices for topless without telling anyone, and the customers start complaining that the rest of us are charging too much. So then Trina, Cindy and me dropped our topless price as well. Then to make matters worse, the economy tanked and now customers are trying to barter with us. "Look, I'll give you $27 and this half-used gift card for Olive Garden..." It was that bad.
Now I had my own "Blue Light Special" if you will. For Regulars that I liked, and who were in a hurry, I'd offer a 15 minute session when Audrey wasn't around. Without her at the front desk, I could let the customer skip the door fee. Then in the room, I'd basically give them a 10 minute back rub, followed by a fully-clothed happy ending for $60. They're happy for saving time and money, and I'm happy for pocketing a decent tip without having to undress. A win-win for everyone.
When business got bad, we were hit with this wave of bargain hunters. Guys with hard luck stories. Guys threatening to take their business elsewhere. And in some cases, guys offering to pay with DVD players and cartons of cigarettes.
And their M.O. was usually the same - get their naked asses up on the table before I had offered options. They figured I'd have no choice but to agree to whatever scheme they had in mind. But unfortunately for them, in my line of business, the customer is NOT always right. I don't know about you guys, but in my book lying naked on a table with your limp dick hanging in the breeze is not exactly a good position to negotiate from. So whenever some customer would say "I only have $20, take it or leave it," I'd usually just open the door to our brightly lit hallway and then point to the exit. Amazing how that bright light helped them find extra money in their wallet.
Sometimes I'd compromise and offer them either a topless massage OR a happy ending. NOT both. But I never liked offering this option because I still spent the same time in session, but for a smaller tip. So when Audrey finally let us start offering a 15 minute session, none of us argued.
It works basically like this: $20 at the door so Audrey still makes her money, plus another $40 in session. And in 15 minutes, you pretty much only have enough time for some chit-chat and a handjob. I don't even bother to offer clothing options because these guys just want to get in, get off, and get out. Sometimes I'll take my shirt off for a sort of "bra only" option if it helps to get them off quicker, and most importantly - encourage them to take a longer session next time (that's what I call marketing).
The 15 minute option was popular for a while, but now things are picking back up and we're seeing more 45 and even 60 minute sessions again. But the 15 minute option is still great for the man on the go. Get in, get off, get out, and still have time for a burger before lunch is over.
Thursday, November 4, 2010
I've talked about the Erotic Massage Indicator, and the Handyman Indicator - we're the first one's to know when things go bad because we rely so heavily on disposable income. But when times are bad, you can always count on the P's and D's because they always seem to have money, and in some cases even MORE money. So now I would like to introduce CJ's "Pimp-n-Ho Indicator."
Take for example a cousin of mine. "Benjy" runs his own custom car stereo place. I'm talking the top-of-the-line stuff, not your $200 Sony radio with cassette player. He specializes in the extreme, 27 speaker, 50 gigawatt, 12 LCD screen, mobile disco on wheels. His work has been featured in car magazines and TV shows. And it's NOT cheap. He once offered to pimp my ride, but when he mentioned price my left hand cramped up at the equivalent number of handjobs I'd need to cover it. That's the level we're talking here.
Anyway, not too long ago he was doing a great business. But back then it was professional athletes, young dot-com millionaires, or guys doing well in real estate. He tells me now that he barely scrapes together enough money for rent by relying on business from P's and D's. They're mostly guys from the city looking towards the burbs for either a bargain, or just something different.
I'm not fond of their business either because one way or another, they're always trying to recruit you. And they're very pushy because that's just the way they do business. So I just assumed that Benjy hates them for the same reasons. Turns out that's not the case. Benjy just hates them because they're cheap, greedy, self-centered assholes. Let me explain...
When you're working with high-end stuff, whether it's stereo equipment, custom cars, fancy speedboats, etc., your business relies on reputation and word-of-mouth. I guess rich guys don't exactly reach for the yellow pages when they want to pimp out the Bentley. Instead, they see something they like at trade shows, magazines, or their rich neighbors driveway, and then just ask where they got it.
Apparently in the social sphere of Pimps and Dealers, this is considered a serious breach of etiquette. Benjy said that the problem is that whenever he finishes a job for P's and D's, he knows that all that work is a dead end and will not generate any additional sales or increase his reputation. The P's and D's will take all the credit for themselves, and will not divulge who did the work for them - no matter how many shows they do or photo spreads they get. They basically consider people like Benjy as "their little secret."
Some of you are probably thinking so what? - they paid for a product, so they can do whatever they want with it. But as Benjy pointed out to me (after I said just that) he can't exactly advertise high-end services like his in the newspaper. Instead, he has to rely on the occasional plug like "as featured in Extreme Noise Magazine" or "winner of the 2009 Ghettoblaster award."
So now my cousin is just hoping things will pick up soon so he can be more selective with his customers. I know what he means. I feel the same way about customers who smell bad.
Tuesday, November 2, 2010
Well, to be more truthful, it was between all those Halloween parties that we closed up shop. Trina and I had way to much to do this weekend with all the costume shopping and beer runs and whatnot in preparation for a weekend of Halloween festivities. Cindy was willing to work, but both Audrey and I agree that she wouldn't know she was servicing a cop even if were in full uniform, with a badge and carrying a video camera. "And I thought he was doing a role play..."
You know who did work this weekend? Maude - Audrey's dull sister. Let me tell ya something, that bitch takes her job seriously. I mean, she came in, worked the phones, and told anyone who called that we were unavailable. AND she cleaned the place from top to bottom! Personality of wallpaper, but a good worker.
Looks like we didn't miss much since there was no more news on raids this past weekend. Let's cross our fingers and see if the interest in parlors ends today.
Now I'd like to take the opportunity to apologize about my comment the other day about the clientele of full service parlors.
What I was trying to say is that WHEN a parlor's customers change over to drug dealers and criminals, that it will attract too much attention and eventually get taken down. That's what happened to a couple of places around here a few years back. I was not trying to say that EVERY full service place is patronized exclusively by pimps and dealers (however, I do have a funny story regarding that which I'll share later). The point I was trying (poorly) to make is that a parlor's worst enemy is attention of any kind.
There are 2 kinds of attention: cops and neighbors. The current crackdown is based on the attention from neighbors. A national organization fighting human trafficking has teamed up with local religious groups to identify and investigate suspicious parlors in the area (yes - I read the paper too). And I'm sure many businesses in the Delaware Valley ended up on a list of some kind that they turned over to the feds/townships/police/etc.
And this leads to the other kind of attention: cops. This is the really bad kind of attention because unlike neighbors, cops can shut you down. And cops HAVE to investigate if there's been a complaint. So after everything was said and done, they shut down about 20 Asian massage parlors and 2 American ones. My guess is that the American ones got thrown in there because they were just waaaaay to obvious to ignore.
And this is why I made that bad example of how a parlor can call attention to itself by its customers. Actually a very successful parlor (whether full service or not) will have an incredibly dull clientele. And that's the kind of business you want - not politicians, celebrities, or criminals. Sure, they may be more interesting and have more money to throw around, but there's either a reporter or a cop who followed them here taking pictures and writing down license plate numbers. No thank you.
So my apologies to my fellow masseuses out there if I offended anyone. And you full service fans - sorry if I lumped you in with the "wrong" crowd.
Thursday, October 28, 2010
Before ending up here at The Business, I worked at a place that had recently been taken over by a new owner. This guy has no idea what he was doing and instead of acting like a manager, he acted like a pimp. Not only did he not mind the girls doing full service in session, he actually encouraged it. So the place basically went from massage parlor to brothel overnight. And when this asshole told us we had to fuck him to keep our jobs - most of us quit.
That place got raided about a couple months later. Not because any of us squealed on him, but because his business began to attract the wrong kind of customer. That's one of the main differences between the clientele of a massage parlor and a brothel. In a parlor, the customers are mostly guys who are just thrilled to see some boobies and get a handjob. In a brothel, you'll get criminals spending their latest haul, and drug dealers looking to score a few new customers.
So to answer some of your questions, yes the cops do come in with guns drawn and making a lot of noise. This is for 2 reasons. First, they want everyone in the building to know that this is a raid and not a robbery. So anyone packing (and I will neither confirm nor deny whether we typically pack or not) will think twice before reaching for their own stuff. And second, they need to protect themselves just in case someone is dumb enough to pull a weapon (ya never know if that big spender you just had in session got all his money from knocking over a liquor store).
Raids happen super fast. They have to if they want to actually catch anyone in the act. Unlike a drug bust, we don't have any evidence that can be instantly flushed down a toilet. Instead, they want to catch the girls (and guys) naked in session. That way they can at least get you for public lewdness/indecency/etc. for having 2 naked bodies in the same room. Judges don't tend to buy the "...but she was topless for therapeutic reasons!" defense. Believe it or not, they go for the lesser charge of indecency because it's hard to get the charge of solicitation to stick. Mainly due to lack of evidence.
Now before some of you start crying "bullshit" because you read in the paper that the girls in a raid were all charged with prostitution - that's because they had all solicited undercover cops before the raid even started. Unless they have on camera a guy offering money for sex, there's no evidence to prove anything. There can be a pile of money on the counter, a guy tied to a bed with a gag in his mouth and a dildo up his ass, and a trashcan full of used condoms - there's no real evidence of prostitution. My friends that have been caught up in raids all had those charges thrown out in court.
HOWEVER... that doesn't mean that no one's going to jail. With enough "prostitution paraphernalia" lying around, they can usually bust the owner for running a house of "ill repute." The girls can all be arrested and have the shit scared out of them. And depending on the true nature of the raid, the customers may or may not be dragged through the streets for all the neighbors to see. At the very least, the guys will be questioned and released with the promise to never show their penises in public again. At worst, they'll be actually arrested and charged with public lewdness, with their names sent to the local paper.
That's exactly what happened around here a number a years ago. A place got raided not for the girls, but for the high-profile customers. No one famous, but a couple of business-owners and community-leader types. We all guessed they had a few enemies looking to take them down.
As for the businesses themselves - this is a free country and there is no law against offering massage services to the public. The cops can't confiscate your building. In fact, one of the first AMPs to be busted a year ago petitioned to reopen shortly afterwards. The owners reasoning - "I didn't know the girls were all illegal immigrants from Korea having sex for money." So if the place doesn't reopen under a different name, it'll probably just pack up and move across town.
Now why would anyone running an illegal business want to stay in the exact same notorious spot you may ask? For the same reason any good business would - location, location, location. If you've spent a few years building up a clientele at that address, why confuse anyone by moving it? Face it - EVERY town has 'that place" that's rumored to be a brothel/parlor/crackhouse/etc. And notoriety is the kind of advertising that money can't buy. So if you can't reopen at your old address, someone else will.
So if we're taken down tomorrow, chances are I'd post bail and be on my computer telling you all about it that night. Or maybe not since the DOJ is monitoring this website.
Tuesday, October 26, 2010
9 parlors taken down. 8 of those were in a neighboring county just over the weekend. Busy week for law enforcement and bad news for working girls. However, since all of them were Asian Massage Parlors (AMPs), I don't feel to badly.
I tnink this pretty much illustrates what I've been saying all along about the elections. Everyone who's in office and wants to stay there will take credit for being "tough on crime" at the expense of some poor girl trying to work off her debt to her mafia owners. These raids are the kind of thing that the local news loves since they combine everything that makes for great TV:
Disgraced husbands walking with coats over their heads
Frowing girls with no makeup
Hey guys - you wanna get tough on crime? How about fixing downtown so I can walk down the sidewalk after 8pm without getting robbed? Sorry - but that kind of cleanup can't be done before voting day.
Am I getting bothered by all this? Oh yeah. It's starting to make me nervous again - especially since I thought we were in the clear. We've been seeing newbies for a couple months now, and even I'm wondering if maybe we should lay low till next week.
Speaking of which, I have a girlfriend who owns a business near where they busted those 8 parlors over the weekend. I mentioned her before - she offered me a job a couple years ago when I was tired of Audrey's bullshit. Anyway, I called her up as soon as I heard. She was pretty much hiding under a rock when I called. They're more or less shut down, simply because she can't get anyone to come to work, let alone answer the phone. Not that she wants to go to work! She's scared to death to drive anywhere near that place right now.
We talked for over an hour and I filled her in on what's been happending out here, since we've been the center of the crackdown for over a year now. I suggested that she do what we did - just stop taking new customers for a couple of months. Period. End of story. She thought that was crazy and none of the girls would go for it. But I said what better way to guarantee no narcs than only taking Regulars?
We also swapped a few tips on keeping ourselves safe in this environment. However, I would still bet money that the crackdown fades away in a couple of weeks. And another thing I'd like to point out - out of the 2 dozen places raided over the past year, only 2 of them were good old fashioned American massage parlors. It must take a LOT of complaints before the cops are forced to take one down. Just goes to show that they really don't care about business such as ours, until they're noticed by too many people.
Now if I go suddenly off the air without a trace, then we'll both know that I was completely and utterly full of shit!
Thursday, October 21, 2010
Apparently "Crystal" just started looking for a job and got Audrey's number. They spoke for a bit because Audrey is considering hiring another girl. Personally I don't think we need the help. The 3 of us are fine with the number of sessions we're currently doing, but Audrey is so greedy that the thought of losing a single customer because he couldn't wait 30 minutes between sessions just eats her up. Who cares if a 2nd girl has to sit around for 6 hours waiting for that to happen, as long as Audrey gets that door fee.
But I digress.
Anyway, Audrey called me up and asked "You want to talk to this girl? She's from that place that just got raided." Well of course I wanted to talk to her! The blog aside, I wanted to know what happened just out of professional curiosity. Whatever we can learn from their mistakes, right?
So Audrey put me in contact with her, with the promise that I had to see if she'd be a good fit. I told Trina and Cindy too and they wanted to know all the details when I was done.
Crystal worked at the other place on and off over the past year. She only covered 2 shifts per week and was not officially on the books. This is probably why she got lucky and slipped under the radar screens during the raid. In PA parlors it's not uncommon to have girls working under the table since the only staff you can legally have must be licensed massage therapists. For example, Cindy is not officially on our payroll. There are loopholes in the laws concerning training, experience, etc., but I won't bore you here with it. Enough to say that the new laws are designed to weed out the full service massage parlors.
According to Crystal, there were a couple other part time girls who also avoided the raid, but they have sworn off the massage business for now. The crackdown really has made a lot of local girls nervous about working.
Crystal is what I like to call "Half Service." She'll do an oral release in session (with condom) but won't do actual sex. She saves full service for a limited number of customers she only sees outside of work. Because she wasn't full service, she was scheduled to just help out on a couple of shifts per week. I explained to her that we're not full service and she said she was cool with that. I also mentioned that part time availability is fine since we're not busy enough for a full time hire (which is true).
I asked Crystal if she's heard any news or spoken to any of the other girls recently. The others who weren't caught in the raid are laying really low for now - afraid that the ones who got arrested will turn on them for the prosecutors. Apart from that bit of news, she's avoiding that part of town like the plague.
Now the danger of hiring a girl like Crystal is if her name ever comes up in the investigation of the other parlor, they may eventually track her down over here. And THAT is the kind of publicity we can't afford.
I asked if she had any idea they were about to get raided. She said apart from the stories in the paper about the crackdown, she wasn't expecting it. They thought they were careful, and they thought they had people looking out for them. Oh well - just because you have a couple local cops as customers doesn't mean the state won't target you. Especially in an election year! Speaking of which, I'll bet money that the crackdown will miraculously end this month. That's local politics for ya.
And lastly for the heck of it, I ended our interview with "So Crystal... have you had any customers lately looking for a girl named 'CJ?'" She said "no" and I have to admit that I was slightly disappointed.
When we were done on the phone, I told her Audrey will be in touch if we decide to hire her. She actually seemed nice enough - especially if she only wanted a couple of shifts. But with the crackdown going on, she may be too hot to handle right now.
Tuesday, October 19, 2010
I know it's been a while since I've had anyone worthy of FOTW. But I've been sitting on a couple stories for a while as I waited for the whole serious cloud to blow over. Lucky for you guys, I can finally tell them.
Stinky Stan is relatively new, but he's already been in here twice in the last month. In fact, we've had a whole wave of newbies recently, and business has been decent. Anyway, the first time I saw him, we had a normal session with nothing exciting to write about.
Then the other day he comes in and Trina lets me know with a "Get your ass up front cause I'm not going back there." I was like Huh? And she was like "You'll see."
You know how you can tell some people are around before you see them? This was the case of Stinky Stan. I started walking up the hallway when the smell hit me. And it was pure ass. Imagine a really dirty diaper left wide open and sitting right in front of you. That's what this smell was like.
I think I actually staggered when it first hit me. When I regained my composure, I held my breath, waved to Stan, and quickly ushered him into my room. I asked him very kindly to jump into the shower and then get comfy on the table, and I'd be back in 10 minutes. Then SLAM - I closed that door and let out a gagging noise. Trina was already coming down the hallway spraying Lysol.
Some of you guys out there are probably wondering why we didn't just throw him out. On occasion that has happened - usually when it's a repeat offender who REFUSES to hit the shower. Then there are some customers that even the shower isn't enough.
So I figured a quick scrub and 10 minutes for the room to air out would do the trick. And it did. I came back in the room and Stan was up on the table and fresh as a daisy.
I started the session (45 minute G-string) and things are going smoothly. Then it hits me - a whiff of ass. Now if a guy passes gas in the room, it's no big thing and I can tolerate it. But this odor didn't go away. In fact it began to get worse.
I tried to ignore it and just concentrate on the massage, but after a while it just became too much. I stopped the massage so I could light all 3 aromatherapy candles in the room. I didn't say a word either. He knew it. I knew it. The candles knew it. It was BAD.
Stan wasn't one for small talk. And I didn't want to talk because I figured the less I opened my mouth in this cloud the safer I was. My stomach started to ache and I could actually feel a sort of gag in back of my throat. Have you ever noticed when you're sick, that the thought of throwing up just makes you want to throw up even more? Well that's what began to happen here.
And right when I thought I couldn't take any more, I looked up at the clock and... 20 MINUTES LEFT?!?! Holy fuck. I can't... No way... Oh Gawd...I'm gonna...
In a great display of restraint, I casually opened the door and walked out - almost butt naked except for a G-string. I didn't care if my own mom was standing outside that door. I shut gently shut it then jumped into the customer bathroom. I didn't even make it to the toilet - I hurled right into the sink. The cool air in the room felt good, but I still retched and heaved a few more times.
After a few minutes, I calmed down and cleaned up myself and the bathroom. I checked the clock behind the desk. 15 minutes left. Ugh. May as well be infinity.
I realized right then and there that I could not finish this session. Mentally I could not be in the room for even a few minutes. So I took a few deep breaths to calm down (and savor clean air) and I walked back in.
"I'm sorry Stan, but I think I've got food poisoning or somerhing..." Like I'm really gonna tell him the real reason!
Then Stan looks at me with a deep feeling on concern and understanding. A moment passes where our souls seem to communicate without words but through eyes only. He pauses and lets out a slight sigh. Then he says the most profound words I have ever heard in my entire life.
"Oh that stinks."
I told him I really had to end our session early and apologized for not getting to the end part. He was disappointed, but I offered him a double next time and he was cool about that. But it didn't really matter at that point because my brain was already in the back office trying to catch its breath. I don't know if Stan noticed that I didn't even dress up - I just grabbed my clothes off the chair and left the room.
I put my clothes on in the office and begged Trina to see him off. She mumbled a few words to him about how I didn't look good and it was very understanding of him, etc. I would say it took about an hour or so for my stomach to settle back down again.
So next time someone says "that stinks so bad I wanna throw up" picture me standing over a sink wearing only a G-string and actually doing it.
Wednesday, October 13, 2010
The last thing I remember is telling you guys that I finally got around to answering questions. Then I check in yesterday and discover everyone went postal on each other. That's what happens when I leave you guys unsupervised for a week. And to make matters even worse, I found a few highly uncomfortable items in the comments that I had to remove. Now before you start bitching about how everyone is entitled to their opinion, well let me remind you that this is MY blog. So there.
At first I was amused about some of the comments and I was fully planning on responding. However, I soon realized that things kinda got carried away and it wasn't going to be that simple. Now I wish you guys out there would stop using "Anon" because it makes it hard to keep track of who said what. So I think I'll address what I see as the general topics.
Let's begin with a story, shall we?
About every month or so, 2 town cops park at the far end of our strip mall. We call them the Blues Brothers, because they wear dark glasses and sit in a cop car. They show up to scare off customers for a few hours and to show the locals that they're on the job (personally, I think it's the guy next door that calls them). Business slows down for a few hours, then picks up when they leave.
With 2 policemen sitting right outside our door on a regular basis, they have yet to bust in and shut us down. So I sincerely doubt that the key to cracking "The Mystery of the Anonymous Happy Ending" was discovered by a particularly overzealous reader spending months surfing websites about handjobs. When he finally called the "DoJ" to report an anonymous girl telling stories about anonymous men at an undisclosed location receiving unsubstantiated sexual favors, I kinda doubt their reaction was "We hope he found all his evidence on the internet!" And honestly, the DOJ? Please. At least make up something believable next time.
The Search For CJ
When I first started confessing what a typical day is like in a massage parlor, I thought it would be funny if someone actually figured out who I was. I think I even offered a freebie or something to the first person to come in and mention the name "happyendingz." Boy was I wrong.
The first time a customer mentioned the blog, I was scared shitless. Suddenly the reality of it hit me - confessing secrets anonymously on the internet wasn't as easy as I thought it was going to be. I don't know which one of you Anons said it, but I don't think the readers are morons. Heck, quite a few readers have been in The Business since I started this blog. But I can honestly say that not a single one of them have found the real "CJ" because I have never admitted to it. What I have discovered is that a lot of guys out there have found A CJ, not THE CJ.
Turns out some of the local girls have confessed to being CJ to make a few extra bucks. I've heard this from friends at other parlors (more on this later), and a couple customers. Kinda creepy when you think about it. But if I find it creepy, I can only imagine what it must be like for all my fellow masseuses in the Delaware Valley. I wonder what they think of the whole "Are you CJ?" thing?
You know who I hate? Waitresses. Bunch of fucking stuck up bitches. The other day I walk into a restaurant and I ask for a grilled cheese sandwich. After enjoying my sandwich (and diet coke), she has the nerve to hand me a bill for my sandwich! I was like "What the fuck? I can get this at home for free. Where do YOU get off charging me money for something that I can get at home for nothing." That's the problem with restaurants - they would be a lot more fun if it weren't for all these assholes asking you for money. I love to eat, but it becomes demeaning and exploitive when money gets involved.
THIS is what I thought of that comment about promiscuity and money.
CJ is a Dirty Whore - or What Am I Doing Here?
I always find it amusing when people have critical things to say about me or my job. Everyone is entitled to their opinion, and I even appreciate the occasional "You should save your money and get a real job." Hey - that's the plan.
But what I really don't understand are the people who insist on defining me as a whore, slut, skank, etc. The purpose of this whole confessions thing is not to get your approval for what I do - it's to inform you on what really goes on in this industry, and hopefully give you a laugh at the same time. But these guys who are really angry and spiteful with me, it's almost like they keep reading and reading every week in the hopes that one day I'll end a story with...
"... it suddenly occurred to me as I had my left hand wrapped around his cock and 2 fingers up his ass while I whistled the Star Spangled Banner, that what I was doing might be wrong. And at that exact moment I decided to accept the Lord Jesus Christ as my personal savior and turn from my wicked sinful ways..."
To these people, let me remind you that this bog is about happy endings. Heck - it's right in the title!!! Have you noticed that every story ends with a handjob? You get a handjob! She gets a handjob! Everyone who walks through the door gets a handjob! Why are you guys continuously surprised and disappointed? If you're really that sensitive and would like your stories slightly less handjobby-ish, may I suggest you try www.Disney.com.
And for those of you still waiting for my conversion to the good side, let me remind you that I am a cradle born Catholic. Hypocrisy is my middle name.
Haters and Lovers
What can I say about the guys who have nice things to say about me and blog - I love you guys! YOU get it. Read. Learn something new. Have a chuckle. Done. That's it. There really is no ulterior motive to this blog. I meet an interesting character in session. I tell you guys about it. And that's pretty much why I started confessing everything on the internet.
Those of you who don't believe me - fine. You try spending 40 hours a week in session naked with a stranger and NOT have something slightly peculiar happen. Those of you who think I intentionally lie to promote some sort of agenda - Great! I'm actually flattered that you think I'm a lot more than just some silly girl who gives happy endings for tips and then writes about it. But the fact of the matter is that I just write about what I see. And if it hasn't happened to me in this little corner of PA, then I know nothing about it.
And finally, to those of you who have actually paid attention to what I've said, taken notes, and have successfully gotten an erotic massage at a local parlor - good for you! You are the wind beneath my wings and the reason why I have so much fun doing what I do.
Tuesday, October 5, 2010
Monday, October 4, 2010
Now when it comes to interesting customer stories, I have to be careful about who I write about and when. For example, I make it a point NOT to mention readers who have actually done their homework and found The Business. And yes - there have been a lucky few. You have no idea how freaky it is to have a guy on the table asking me if I've ever heard of "CJ" or "happyendingz." So the last thing I can do is write "another guy found me yesterday" without him figuring it out. And those guys can NEVER be a freak of the week, which can be damn frustrating, let me tell ya.
The Names Have Been Changed To Protect The Guilty
Another thing I can't mention are the actual names of local businesses. I mean if they're in the paper as getting shut down, I can't stop anyone from finding it on the internet. But real names I'll never post here. When I first started this blog, I used to make the mistake of recommending local parlors to guys who asked me by email. Then it quickly dawned on me that if I mention the competition, then by the process of elimination they could eventually find me. So now my standard reply to requests for appointments or recommendations is "sorry, but I can't for obvious reasons..."
Then there's things I just shouldn't talk about - or at least not in too much detail. For example, I've been keeping you guys up to date on how we've been protecting ourselves here at The Business during the current crackdown. I've mentioned a few things we've done, like cut off newbies for a few months, but then there are specific techniques that we use that I won't mention here - just in case. So before any of you assume that we're all sucking off state troopers to stay in business - think again. That technique obviously didn't work for the other parlors that got raided recently. However, if any of my girls are out there reading this (Red I'm talking to you), I'll gladly give you an update on the latest intel.
Lastly, there are my beloved Regulars. I've made it a point not to do profiles on my regular customers because over time I'd probably end up revealing enough info for these guys to recognize themselves on the internet. That's why I usually do individual stories, with a new fake name attached each time. The last thing I need is a Regular to realize "Hey - I'm Freddie the Foot Fetish Fan!"
A Guy Walks Into A Bar...
And did you ever notice how I start my stories with "A guy came in yesterday..."? It's always "yesterday" or "last week" or whatever. So if anyone out there thought I was talking about you personally because you just happened to be in a massage parlor yesterday wearing women's underwear asking to be spanked - I apologize. Maybe it really was you yesterday. Maybe not. But never ever assume that you're the only guy on the planet who practices your particular little kink. Hell, I still meet foot fetish guys who are shocked to hear that I have a standard price for that.
Think you're the only guy who ever dressed up as Little Bo Peep, and asked me to baaaa like a sheep? There's a reason why they sell her costume in XXL in adult toy stores.
Now if I ever slip up and mention the butterfly tattoo on your left ass cheek........ oh shit!
Tuesday, September 28, 2010
I didn't know any of the girls personally, but Audrey said she kinda remembered one of them. I think she said one of them may have talked to her about a job last year. I don't remember.
Am I surprised? The only thing I'm surprised about is how long it took to get to that place. I mean it was pretty well known as a full service parlor. According to the paper, police were responding to complaints from neighbors and this is NOT part of a "crack down."
For as long as I can remember, they never really went out of their way to cover up what they did. Hell - even their name was a dead giveaway. It was one of the places that puts an ad in the local weekly entertainment rag with pictures of women in bikinis asking you to "cum on in." I mean it was that bad.
OK... maybe not THAT obvious, but it was still pretty bad.
So I guess all the paranoia around here was justified over the summer. Shit, we cut off newbies for several months so that probably saved our asses. Between that and Audrey cashing in whatever favors she had left, The Business will live to see another day. And I will bet you money that after the elections, there probably won't be another raid for a long time.
Think about it - local ultra-conservative religious group demands the town to cleanup the parlors. Local politicians jump on that bandwagon for a full year before the elections. Coincidence? It never is. Just haven't seen it this obvious in a long while.
Thursday, September 23, 2010
The last story I told about Cindy blowing a customer during a double was the last time anything like that happened. We've done a couple more doubles since then, but they were just standard happy endings with 1 girl doing the HJ and the other one teasing. But I am reminded of the time Cindy and I entertained a couple of Sugar Daddy's back in the good old days. I've mentioned this story before, but today I'll tell the whole thing.
Actually, it was my SD and one of his buddies. The buddy was in town and my SD wanted to entertain him properly, so he asked if I could hook him up for the evening. Cindy was game (hell - she's always game), so we made plans to meet them at their hotel for an evening of dinner, drinks and "whatever."
Cindy and I really got slutted up for the occasion. My SD (we'll call him "Tim" and his friend "Mike") enjoyed being seen in public with a girl on his arm. So our thing was to get dressed up and paint the town red. He wanted to turn heads, so I'd get all decked out in something tight with "knock-me-down-and-fuck-me" heels, then he'd take me to busy restaurants, bars, etc. At the end of the evening, he'd usually just drop me off at my car or home, and that was it. He never asked for HJ's when we were out - he figured that's what The Business was for.
This night was pretty much the same routine, except now we were doing it as a double date. However, Mike had different expectations on how the evening would end - and that's where Cindy came in. I think Tim's exact words were "Do you have any friends that could like... do him?"
So there we were - Cindy and I all dressed to kill. I told her how Tim likes to see me dressed, so she was similarly done up in a short dress and heels. Biggest difference was that she had taller heels and showed way more cleavage. In other words - sluttier (I still love you Cindy!).
We drove over to the hotel in my car with the radio cranked up - just having a good time. We got there early and decided to have one last smoke before we headed up to the room. So out in the parking lot, we lit up and stood outside the car listening to the radio.
A couple minutes go by and an older gentleman wearing a tie with a short sleeve shirt walks out of the hotel and towards us. He's staring straight at us the entire time, so we know something's up. As he gets closer we can see that he's wearing a name tag like he's the manager or something. Cindy and I stamp out our cigarettes.
"Excuse me, but I'm going to have to ask you two to leave." He looks dead serious as if he's done this drill before and we obviously know what the hell he's talking about.
I said "Uhhhh... why? We weren't doing anything." Cindy and I both looked at each other confused. "I'll turn the radio off," I said as I stuck my head in the car window.
"Don't play around." His look didn't change any. "I don't care what you do, I just can't have you two working here."
Did he just say "working?"
Cindy and I looked at each other. Then we started laughing. And the more she laughed the more I laughed. This was obviously not the reaction the guy was expecting. He starts to stammer "uhhhh... I... uhhhh..."
Between belly laughs, Cindy points at me and squeaks "He thinks you're a hooker!" before doubling back over in laughter.
Now I can't breath because I'm laughing so hard. But I catch my breath and yelled "YOU look like the hooker!" Then I loose it again.
Come to think of it, we probably both looked like hookers - although technically I was acting as a pimp that evening. And also an escort. I was a sort of pimp-scort.
The manager guy finally let out a relieved laugh and explained that we both looked like hookers - especially on the parking lot security cameras. When I finally calmed down, I told him we were meeting our "Johns" inside, then going out to dinner. He got another laugh out of that, but I guess it wasn't too far from the truth either.
Tim and Mike were waiting for us in the lobby since we had been delayed. Cindy and I told the story on the way to dinner. Luckily they found it funny too.
Dinner and drinks were fun. I checked in with Tim in the middle of the evening and we agreed that Mike and Cindy were hitting it off. I made it a point to act flirty with her in public so Tim would have more to brag about later.
We were all pretty toasted by the time we got back to the hotel room. Tim's an older guy who tires out easily, so I knew he would just want to chill out. We planted ourselves on the pull out sofa and started watching late night TV. Unfortunately for Mike and Cindy, there was no other room to go hide in. So they started making out on the bed by the light of the TV screen.
For the most part we ignored them. I got up a couple of times to get a fresh beer for Tim and myself. Each time I glanced over, they had switched positions and another article of clothing was missing. They thought they were being subtle by sliding underneath the sheets, but when a head disappears and you see a lump in the sheet rising up and down, you can figure it out.
Tim and I turned the volume of the TV up as they got louder and louder. Thankfully, there was a final grunt from Mike and the sheets stopped moving. A few minutes later, Cindy gripped a king-sized pillow and made a dash for the bathroom with her tiny, crumpled dress in her hand. Mike lit a cigarette.
Good timing - I was getting sleepy. After Cindy had freshened up, Mike said his goodbyes to Cindy and then Tim walked us down to my car. I kissed him goodnight before he handed me an envelope.
"Thanks girls!" he said with a smile and yawn. "I don't think Mike will ever forget this night any time soon."
And I haven't either. Cindy and I split the cash in the envelope and she ended up seeing Mike a few more times whenever he was in town. As for me, I love the fact that I finally have a place where I can tell this story in it's entirety.
Tuesday, September 21, 2010
Cindy has a sugar daddy.
At least that's what it sounds like to me. I know she'll occasionally see a customer outside of work, but I guess this guy has become a sort of regular thing (let's call him "Gary"). I've met him a few times - he's been in that often. Seems nice enough, a bit young in appearance for a SD, but who knows - maybe he's a dotcom millionaire or something. Then again there are some guys who just love that "Suicide Girl" look that Cindy has perfected.
If Gary was coming in that often, I can understand why she offered to start seeing him outside of work. She's never shied away from blowing or even fucking an occasional customer in the room, but at least this way she won't get busted by Audrey's sister. And he saves the door fee. BUT, she lives with her boyfriend (and baby daddy) and I don't know how she's explaining the occasional midnight trip to the grocery store.
[And yes, I know that she'll probably read this in a couple of days, but it's not like I haven't said this to her before.]
Perhaps I'm reading too much into her situation. I mean, I don't have a SD right now but now that I think about it, I'm not sure how I would explain to Derek about some of the odd work hours I would suddenly have to put in...
"Yes dear, I did work the morning shift, but Trina needs to leave work at 10pm and there's no one to fill in for that critical 1 hour before closing time and I could really use the extra money to help pay for that fabulous birthday present I want to get you since it's only 11 months from now, and have you been working out because that shirt looks really good on you, would you like a blowjob?"
I'm not sure if the idea is uncomfortable for me because of guilt, or because of inconvenience. I lie about 8 hours of my day, so what's the big deal about an extra hour or 2 - right? Maybe it's because SD's require an extra amount of attention and availability. I don't know, I'm feeling funny even talking about it right now.
Luckily, there are no Sugar Daddy's or even potential ones on my radar screen at the moment. I have to admit that the admiration and attention they provide is fun, but I'm just seeing it differently this time. Oh well. Let's just hope that Gary doesn't have a rich, horny, and handsome brother.
Friday, September 17, 2010
I knew business was going to pick up a little bit because last month was when we finally started letting newbies back into session. Heck - we went for most of the summer relying on just Regulars for business. So the total number of customers jumped to pre-economic meltdown days.
A good chuck of that was new customers, but we also saw in increase in business from Regulars. Audrey said the door fees were also good, but not the same as 3 years ago because guys are taking shorter session times nowadays. As for tips, August was great because we finally started offering options to newbies again. We were getting killed with the therapeutics because guys generally don't tip with those.
So what does this all mean in terms of the economy? Well the official HappyEndingz forecast is that the number of guys with disposable income is finally returning to pre-recession levels. In other words, more people have jobs now. I mean, August may have been a fluke due to the high number of frustrated, horny newbies who were banging down our door all summer. So we'll see if the numbers continue to stabilize through the next quarter.
As for levels of disposable income, it looks like the consumer index is still low on this one. Guys are willing to spend money on massages, just not nearly as much as they did pre-recession.
According to the "CJ Options Index" - Topless is up, while G-string remains flat. Fully nude and mutuals are still way down. Meanwhile on the "CJ Extras Index" - breast and butt releases are slowly making a comeback while foot fetish remains at an all time low.
And that's my take on the economy. Next up - Erotic Sports and Weather!
Tuesday, September 14, 2010
Wow - I can't believe that I actually went a week without realizing I hadn't posted anything. But I guess you could say that I've been "distracted" lately. That's the polite way of saying that I've gotten laid.
Hmmmmmmm... Bitch about work or go fuck? Tough one there. Answer Email from borderline stalker or quickie in the shower? Let me think about it...
The beginning of a relationship is always fun. It's the middle part where I have to juggle privacy versus intimacy that I hate. And then there's always the end part where everything turns ugly and I eventually spend a Saturday night drinking tequila and sorting out my CD's from his.
I've been talking to you guys about the fine line you have to walk regarding personal relationships when you're in this kind of business. So will I take any of my own advice and try something different this time in the hopes that maybe it'll turn out differently? Probably not. I know me and I fear change. So I'll just stick with what I know - the slowly spiraling maelstrom of lies and deceit that ultimately ends with total relationship destruction and emotional ruin.
But for now I'm getting laid! Go me!
So let me start by giving you guys a quick idea of the unique aspects of dating an erotic masseuse.
Always Wait For Us To Shower
The last thing you want to do is suprise us with an "intimate" encounter when we first come home from work. "Oh baby... you smell so good, what's that scent you're wearing?"
"That's jizm from my 3 o'clock."
Give Us Time To Decompress After Work
I once had a boyfriend that basically tore my shirt off after I came home from work - wouldn't take "no" for an answer (the Girls are known to have that affect on people). He proceeded to give me a very thorough tongue caressing of my nipples. And I might have enjoyed it too, but unfortunately all I could think about was the breast release I had given 30 minutes ago. Totally weirded me out.
Don't Buy Us Lingerie
You really don't know what awkward is until your boyfriend asks you to wear that "special" thing he bought you last week and you suddenly realize you've already sold it to a Regular. Or even worse - you can't wear something because it's stained. And those stains aren't his...
So that's what I'm about to go through now. Wish me luck and I promise to bring you something more work related next time!
Wednesday, September 1, 2010
Now when we left off, Derek had just shown me that phone number he had gotten from his masseuse on the boardwalk. I swear - I was seeing red. I sooooooo wanted to run back there and tear her a new one. How DARE you proposition a guy who obviously came in with someone. And in broad daylight!!!
Well, Derek calmed me down and got me to drop it. But I did vow to get to the bottom of whatever it was that just happened. Partly because I wanted revenge, but mostly out of professional curiosity. I mean - how do you advertise an illegal business through a legal one? Are they both owned by the same person? Is one a front for the other? Or is she an independent? And most importantly - if I wasn't there, would she have offered a happy ending to Derek right there behind the privacy divider?
That night before dinner, I had derek hand me that phone number. I *67 my number and called.
"Hello" said a heavily accented voice.
I've done this a hundred times before - it's my Ditzy Housewife routine. "Yeah hi. I would like to schedule a massage for today."
There was a hesitation. There's always a hesitation at hearing a female voice. "Uhhhh... you have wrong number. We no do that here."
"But I got your number from my husband who said he gets his massages there." I love to throw that in to confuse them. I seem to know what's really going on, but why would I know from my husband? She's probably wondering if I want a happy ending too.
"Uhhhhh... no appointment. We booked." I was disappointed - she caved way too easily. She should have just kept denying everything then hung up.
"How about tomorrow? Or anytime this weekend is good." Now I was just torturing her because I knew she can't say anything. I wondered how she was going to bail.
Whoa - I wasn't expecting that. Usually they just hang up on me. It's the easiest way to tell if a massage parlor is legit or not - have a girl call up and try to make an appointment. Now for you newbies out there looking for an erotic massage - all you have to do is find a girl you can trust to make that call for you!
I heard some chinese chatter in the background and finally a not-quite-as-accented woman picks up the phone. "Hello, can I help you?"
Now it was my turn to be caught off guard. "Uhhhhh... Yes... I wanted to schedule an appointment please."
"I'm sorry, but we are no longer accepting any more appointments. I will give you the number to call to make an appointment."
Ahhhhhh... so that's their game. She gave me a local number and then hung up. Of course I immediately called the new number. And guess what? It was for the place on the boardwalk! Each place was a cover for the other!!!!
Derek asked for the number back so he could schedule an appointment. I told him to fuck off. At this point, I don't think he knew what to make of my enthusiasm for this undercover investigation. And it probably didn't help any that I immediately got on the phone, called Trina and told her everything. Derek started yelling in the background that he wanted his own happy ending, so I told him if he keeps that shit up, he'll be taking care of his own happy endings from now on.
And that was my undercover reporting on the secret world of New Jersey Asian massage parlors (or NJAMPs). If any more of you guys out there have something to add, feel free. In the comments last week, someone left a great story similar to mine.
Wednesday, August 25, 2010
My little confessions over my vacation were not the only uncomfortable moments that week. In fact, the whole massage parlor, masseuse thing became kind of a running joke. Let me explain.
In Atlantic City, the boardwalk is chock full of cheesy souvenir shops, greasy diners, amusements, and (... drum roll please... ) massage parlors. But these aren't the kind that I work in, or even the AMPs that I deplore. On the boardwalk there are actual massage parlors filled with rows of massage tables and chairs for all the world to see. They are not happy ending places, but more of a walmart of massage services.
They rely on the tourists and make their money with low prices and high volume. And by coincidence, they just happen to all be run by asians. I can't claim that they're all sex slaves trapped by the mob - particularly since there's no sex going on and half the staff are guys.
So there we are... Derek and I walking down the boardwalk and passing these places every day. It started off with little jokes like "Hey CJ, is that what you do?" or "You wanna try it?" At first I would just laugh it off, but then it became "how about a couples massage?" or "I bet you could show them a thing or two."
Oh you have NO idea.
But it just got old after a while. I mean he just kept bugging me about it until I had to tell him to knock it off. However, I felt guilty for snapping at him and eventually it was me who brought the subject back up. As a peace offering I actually offered to buy him a massage. Heck, I should have thought of it before - for just $30, he shuts up and I get 45 minutes of uninterrupted shopping.
Unfortunately it backfired. When we got inside one of these boardwalk places, they did the hard sell and tried to get us both in. Now let me take a step back and describe what these places look like. They're basically an entire shop space that's nothing but massage tables and chairs. There's no store front, so you can see inside the entire thing from the boardwalk. People just walk in and get a table or chair massage while hundreds of people walk past and gawk at you.
Needless to say I was horrified at the thought of lying down on one of these nasty ass tables while teenage boys point and giggle. You may think I'm in no position to criticize another parlor, but let me tell ya, in my room at The Business, you could eat off those floors (just in my room - Audrey's room was a biohazard).
There was NO way I was gonna touch those tables, but I did agree to a 30 minute foot massage by a rather fatherly looking Chinese gentleman in a dress shirt and tuxedo vest. Meanwhile Derek arranged for a 45 minute full body massage with a short, round Chinese woman wearing a T-shirt with Justin Bieber. Derek double checked to make sure I was OK with him getting a massage by another woman, and I was like "knock yourself out."
Now let me add one more piece to the puzzle here. This place was basically a line of 6 massage tables and massage chairs, then there's a privacy divider in the back. Apparently there's one more table behind the divider that can't be seen by the public. And behind that is the business office and restroom for the staff.
It was behind this divider that a short, busty Chinese girl suddenly appeared. And when I say "busty" I mean artificially busty. I think both my eyes and Derek's popped out of our heads. He gave me this sort of "I'm sorry" kinda look as she led him back BEHIND that divider. I figured there wasn't much trouble he could get into in a place like this, BUT I wasn't going to touch him until after he thoroughly scrubbed himself off back in the room. All I cared about at this point was getting my foot-on.
Let me tell ya something... I've never had a professional foot massage before. I mean, I've done the pedicure thing where they might rub your feet for a minute or 2, but that is NOTHING compared to 30 minutes with a professional. Holy Shit. I swear to Gawd, if this old guy was a sex slave owned by the mob, I might have to reconsider my stand on AMPs. It was soooooo good that HE made a foot rub feel like a blowjob. It was THAT good.
I completely forgot all about Derek and his petite top heavy masseuse behind the divider. She could have been blowing him for all I care, as long as it didn't bump me from the cloud I was floating on. But alas, all good things must come to an end. I didn't need a happy ending to my foot rub because 25 of those 30 minutes were pretty much happy ending enough for me.
I wrapped up before he did, so I got to sit in the massage chair and just relax for a few minutes. I asked if I could smoke a cigarette, but Tuxedo said I'd have to go outside first. Damn men are all alike - they thrill you then leave you.
Derek walked up a few minutes later and we walked out together. I asked him how it was, and he said not bad considering he had all his clothes on (you don't disrobe in these places - they just do you in your shorts and T-shirts). I asked him jokingly if she offered him a "happy ending" and he said no, but she did offer him something else.
He motioned for us to keep walking while he fished in his pocket for something. A few store fronts down, he pulls me around a corner and shows me a piece of paper. "She gave this card and told me to call this number if I wanted anything else."
Why that little motherfucker. That full service skank propositioned my man right in front of me! I wanted to storm back there and tear that little slut a new one, but Derek calmed me down and convinced me to just laugh it off. Ha ha.
Now the business part of me actually wanted to call that number and see what the deal was. Is this how parlors advertise in Jersey? I have to admit I was curious.
But this wraps up part 1 of my expose on Atlantic City massage parlors. Time for me to get my ass to work!
Thursday, August 19, 2010
I have a bunch of things I wanna share with you from last week, but I need to keep it simple else I'll be blabbing here all week. Anyway, let me start off by saying that this vacation was the longest time I've spent with a guy (Derek) in a very long time. And it was interesting in an academic kinda way. I'm back to those age old questions of what do I tell him and when. I spent the week pondering things such as:
Should I tell him about The Business?
How much should I tell him?
Confess that I'm not really a shampooer?
Admit I'm really a massage therapist?
Tell him I occasionally strip to a bra for extra money?
Tell him the whole thing is temporary?
Say my coworkers are all full service sluts, but I'm a good girl?
Makes for interesting conversation when he's saying something like "...I hope to manage the store in a few years and I may go back to school for my MBA..." Meanwhile I'm thinking "... I could tell him about the foot fetish guys, but definitely not the cross dressers..."
Now to make a long story short, I told him I'm really a licensed massage therapist and not a shampooer. I lied because guys usually expect massages all the time (which is another lie - most guys actually don't care and never take advantage of those particular talents of mine. Go figure). Derek was cool with it and said he understood (but I knew he didn't).
He then felt compelled to confess to me that he wasn't exactly truthful about how he found out where I worked. Apparently, he had gotten the directions from that skank girlfriend of mine, but then googled The Business and couldn't find anything. Said he knew all along there was something weird about my story, but didn't want to ask about it till I was ready. Thank Gawd he didn't try stopping by again!
Laying that much stuff on the table was easy. The weird part was towards the end of the week when we were messing around on the balcony of the hotel. He wanted me to "use your hand in that special way" (yes - he said it that gaily). So I told him to sit still so I could do it right. I went in the bathroom and got some baby oil from my bag (never leave home without it!) so I could give him a proper hand release. A few minutes later he was grunting and slapping the arms of his chair while I jerked him off onto the balcony floor. He turned to me, looked me straight in they eye and said "Where on Earth did you learn to do that? I swear that it felt just like a blowjob."
I wanted to tell him about my infamous double-handed criss-cross technique, and the various cell-phone videos of it floating around the web. But instead I just said "I musta picked it up somewhere."
Monday, August 16, 2010
So much to talk about from my first real vacation in a couple years. But for right now all I want to say is good fucking riddance to this fucking asshole...
This piece of shit made me sick. And with him gone it's 1 less reason for all of us to look behind our backs. It's not like this way of life isn't dangerous enough as it is, but for this fucker to prey on women just trying to make a living in a world that isn't protected by the law just really put me over the edge. I hope that mutherfucker is burning in Hell right now.
Can you tell I'm slightly affected by this story?
Anyway, for me this was fantastic news to cap my relaxing (and eventful) week at the shore. I'll go into detail later, but let's just say that it started with flying down the PA turnpike at 100 mph in a rented car and ended a week later with me almost getting run over by an Amish horse and buggy. That's Pennsylvania for ya.