I was surprised by how absolutely mundane it could be. One girl was in college to be a pharmacist. Another had three kids and no child support and was desperate for money. It was the same list of coworkers you'd expect with any other entry-level position (pun intended as hard as it can be). In some ways it was like you'd expect -- girls walking around naked, painting each other's nails -- but the rest of it was run as a normal business. It wasn't even open late; we closed at 11 p.m. That was because the kind of people you probably assume frequent brothels are the kind that tend to stay out late at night. We didn't want them. Can you blame us?
"We've got church in the morning!"
Most of our clients were average businessmen. They were in town for work, staying at a nearby hotel and in search of some of that exotic, two-towns-over strange. The weekdays, not the weekends, were actually busiest, because most of our clients were married men. So if you showed up at 10:30 p.m. on Friday expecting a weekend-long bang fest, you'd be greeted with a "closed -- please cum again later" sign, because weekends are slow, so we shut up shop a bit early.
The business was even registered as a "relaxation clinic" under a LLC. So we could put our work history on a resume, and as long as our next potential boss didn't show up every Tuesday for some offside ball-handling, it'd look perfectly normal.
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"Thanks for applying. Hey, don't I recognize you from ... uh ... softball?"