“My Red Hat Society chapter visited the brothel out of curiosity and ended up with an education, as Laraine and one of the Ladies answered every question we asked – and even let us get our pictures taken in the S&M room. Legal Tender is equally enlightening.”
– Olga Scheel
Member, Red Hat Society
“I’ve been giving it away all my life. What do I know about selling it?”
– Laraine Russo Harper
Chapter One ~ Jersey Girl
Growing up in a small town on the Jersey shore, I never thought I would wind up running a brothel. Hell, I didn’t even know brothels existed. Bradley Beach was a summer resort town, a mile square, certainly not big enough to entice a prostitute. The world of prostitution, legal or illegal, was never a thought that crossed my mind.
In 1976 I moved to Las Vegas. It was quite an eye-opening experience leaving a sleepy little beach town and relocating to Sin City. I started working in the casino industry, and that was where I was introduced to the world of prostitution. I worked in gaming for many years, working my way up to executive casino host manager. The goal of every casino host was to keep the high-rollers in the casinos. It didn’t take long to learn that big players played big away from the tables, too. They wanted gourmet meals, headliner shows, airfare, limos, suites, and company to share their comps with. As a casino host, I became a provider of all, including the company.
After many years in the gaming industry, I grew tired of the 24/7 gig. For twenty years, I was not home for most of the major holidays. Gamblers wanted to spend the holidays in Vegas and that was my job, hosting the gamblers. A night didn’t go by without a series of phone calls from pit bosses, who were usually irate because one of my players was hitting the house hard. I can’t recall how many calls I would get, I can only remember that the conversations were all the same.
“Come get your guy off my table, he’s killing me!” the pit boss would scream into the phone. So I would get up, get dressed, and head down to the casino. Oh yeah, he was killing us all right. “Come on, Dave, I’ll buy you dinner,” I’d say. “I couldn’t sleep and you know I don’t like to eat alone.” I ate way too many dinners in the middle of the night and I wasn’t even hungry. I was tired! Can’t anyone just let me sleep? Not tonight.
After my children were grown, I decided to retire from gaming and the midnight meals. Maybe a more subdued job. Yeah, I liked the sound of that. I decided to go to school and become a manicurist. Set my own schedule, work when I want to, put my heels and elaborate wardrobe in the back of my closet. Perfect!
There I was, sitting at my manicuring table in a beautiful salon, doing nails and shooting the shit all day. I’d wear sundresses and sandals, shorts and T-shirts, and I loved every minute of it. No more fancy outfits and high heels, and no more panty hose! Life was pretty good.
A few months had passed when I ran into an old friend. I hadn’t seen him in quite a while and he told me all about a new project he was involved in. He was telling me about this ranch.
“Ranch? When did you become a rancher?” I asked.
He explained that it wasn’t your typical ranch, it was a brothel.