"Monday and Tuesday were extremely slow.  Not only did the bell not ring a lot (I spent most of my time napping or doing my day job), but I wasn't closing the deal.  Too many Larry the Cable Guy truck-drivers who wanted the world for $100, ideally $20 if they could get it that cheap.

I wasn't being a team player, but I needed to find the balance of feeling good about myself, making money and taking care of the house.  It's not an easy spot to find, especially since the house encourages you to go ahead and have sex at what amounts to street prices.  If I wanted to be sucking dick in a car in an alley, I'd already be doing it.  Yes, this is some of the class issues I was talking about.  For an American in the US, it's easy to spot class (might not matter or be so clear-cut in another country).  And I know what sort of class of man I like best, and who appreciates me properly.

Besides, I grew up with those redneck, trailer-trash, KKK-loving bastards and I really have no intention of giving them pussy if I can help it.  Not mine, at any rate."

-- Amanda Brooks, in the right to say no - days 6 and 7 on texasgoldengirl.com

I recently read and appreciated Amanda's posts about working in a legal brothel in Nevada, which answered a lot of questions I've had about that system.  I especially identified with this bit, since I also grew up amongst racist and ignorant people, and most certainly would never want to fuck any of them for the price of a meal at TGIFriday's.  Hell, if that's what I wanted, I would have stayed in flyover land and married one of those guys.