The Art of the Pimp: One Man's Search for Love, Sex, and Money (29 page)

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The night we were there was Military Appreciation Night — free sex for our men (and women) in uniform. The front bell rang and the girls lined up in perfect form as yet another soldier was escorted into the parlor. He began going up and down the line, pausing now and then to talk to the girls, one of whom actually knew and understood the political situation in Iraq, Iran, and Afghanistan. It turned out that she herself had been in the army in a highly skilled technical position. Again, surreal.

Dennis couldn’t have been more accommodating — maybe too accommodating. At one point, while I was setting up for an interview, he walked up to my producer
and offered him one of the girls. It was so casual. It was as if we were filming in a deli and the owner offered him a sandwich. I am pleased to say that my producer declined. “Thank you,” he told Dennis. “But I never mix work and play.”

The following year, I went to the White House Correspondents’ Dinner, which I’ve been attending for many years. It’s a regular Who’s Who of American politics and celebrity. Members of Congress, lobbyists, money, power. When I walked into the packed entryway, one of the first people I saw, to my great surprise, was Dennis. “What are you doing here?” I said.

“Well,” he said. “I was invited by one of my clients.”

“You have clients here?” I asked, taken aback.

”Oh, about a dozen, probably more, including some big politicos.”

And the journalist in me couldn’t resist. “Who?”

And Dennis replied, “Rita, you know I can’t tell you that.”

I turned, looked around the room, and saw a lot of men who were actively trying to avoid making eye contact with Dennis, clearly afraid of being outed, but Dennis betrayed none of them. I spent the rest of the night exchanging pleasantries with renowned movers and shakers, from the White House to Capitol Hill, many of whom I’d interviewed in the past, and I kept asking myself,
Is he a BunnyRanch client?

I DID
HANNITY & COLMES
ON
Fox, and at least those guys called it like they saw it. Sean Hannity kept saying, “Get rid of this pimp! Get rid of this pimp!” But they must have loved my stories,
because they had me back a dozen times, and the shows were always spirited and entertaining. I often took one or two of the girls with me. I think it was good for people to see that these were smart girls who could talk intelligently and convincingly about what they did for a living and why.

One of Hannity’s bookers actually called me years later, when Hannity got his own show,
Hannity’s America
. “The new show is doing great, Dennis, but Sean is looking for monster ratings. Could you maybe invite him to the BunnyRanch?” I invited him, happily, and it was a great experience. Mr. Conservative at the BunnyRanch, surrounded by hot girls. He got his monster ratings.

I did O’Reilly, too, and once again I walked him through the many reasons I thought society would benefit from legalized prostitution. I think it threw him a little. He saw me as an uneducated pimp — which I may well be — and he was having a hard time punching holes in my arguments. Regulate it, control it, tax it, provide a safe working environment for women, take the business out of the hands of criminals,
etc.
So he switched gears. “Prostitution is a lazy business,” he said.

I said, “O’Reilly, try to have sex with guys like you every day and then come back and tell me how lazy it is.” It was great! His office called a few days later to tell me it had been one of his top-rated shows of the year.

And it’s not a lazy business at all. The smart girls work incredibly hard. They are very savvy about social media. They’re on the BunnyRanch message board. They’re on Facebook and Twitter. They create their own Web pages. It’s not just about blow jobs and threesomes or about putting a leash on a guy and making him bark like a dog; it’s about selling yourself. And that’s hard work in any business. The big earners know that, and they work it.

ONE OF THOSE BIG EARNERS
was Sunset Thomas, who had gone to Texas to try to make things work with her husband, only to return to the ranch not long after, eager to get back to work. She put her son and her ne’er-do-well husband back in their house in Las Vegas, a big fancy place in a gated community that she had bought with her porn money, and kept telling me she was going to file for divorce. There was one little problem, however. She was pregnant.

She had her second child at a hospital in Las Vegas — another son — and I found myself getting very wrapped up in her life. But she remained completely hooked into her husband, Zach. “He made me pick up a stranger and bring him back to the house and fuck him, and he was hiding in the closet, watching,” she told me one night, in tears. I again urged her to leave him, that it was only going to get worse, but she couldn’t find the strength or the courage to break free. I’m sure that was partly my fault. I was there for her. Instead of dealing with the problem, she talked about it.

Finally I’d had enough. One night I lit into her. “You either need to pack up and get yourself and your kids away from that crazy fuck, or don’t call me anymore. I can’t be in the middle of this. I care too much about you. If this keeps up, I am going to go nuts, hurt that motherfucker, and end up in prison.”

Mike Tyler & Todd Brandt

MIKE: You know why I hate Dennis? Because he got my dad laid, twice. My dad went out to the BunnyRanch three years ago, when he was 77, and spent two nights there. Me, I’m married, so I couldn’t go. But Dennis got my old man laid. My dad’s having more sex with strange chicks than me.

TODD: Yeah, that’s for sure. Why didn’t Dennis call us in ’95 or ’96, when at least one of us was single and the other one was fucking around?

MIKE: You want to know what I love about Dennis? I love the life he’s built for himself. I mean, Dennis is a big old boy who wakes up every morning next to a naked 18-year-old chick. How can you bitch about that? But whenever we have him on the air, people call up to complain. I think they’re just jealous.

TODD: Dennis is one of the more polarizing figures we have
on the air. He likes to brag about all of his women, but it’s all for show. He wants it to be an entertaining interview. It’s smart marketing.

MIKE: But not everything is about PR. When my dad went out to Nevada, Dennis took him on a double date. What was in it for Dennis? Nothing. He did it because he’s a decent guy.

TODD: He’s also candid. If we ask him a serious question on the air, he is always completely honest with us.

MIKE: He’ll talk about the business, and he’ll talk about his relationships, even the ones that go bad.

TODD: Maybe Dennis has some personal issues, like he has trouble staying attached, but he also has opportunity. The minute things start going south in the relationship, it’s over for him.

MIKE: And he doesn’t have to worry about who’s next because the girls are lining up to jump into bed with him.

TODD: I bet he can be a cold motherfucker, though. Girl starts giving him shit, he cuts her off. But I hear he takes care of all his exes in his will.

MIKE: He should stop doing that. He should start putting good radio guys in his will.

TODD: I still wish he’d called us when we were single.

MIKE: This guy has been playing in a pussy sandbox for over 20 years. Imagine that! He’s a great guy. People say Hugh Hefner is a great guy, so why isn’t Dennis a great guy?

TODD: Dennis is an icon. Hefner had some good pictures in his magazine, sure, but Dennis Hof sells legal pussy. He’s an American hero.

MIKE: He’s my hero, anyway. He got my dad laid.

TODD: And he’s going to get him laid again in September.

MIKE: Maybe we should fly out to Nevada with my dad. Celebrate Dennis’s birthday together.

TODD: No. I don’t think so. Not a good idea.

MIKE: You’re right. Not a good idea.

MEANWHILE,
I had business to attend to, which helped keep my mind off Sunset. One afternoon there was a moment of much-needed levity, which seemed almost designed to counterbalance all the darkness with Sunset. I was walking through the parlor when Suzette called to me from her office. “Dennis, it’s going to be a good day,” she said.

“What makes you say that?” I asked.

“Look at the monitor,” she said.

I popped into her office and looked at the monitor and saw a guy approaching the front gate. He reminded me of my old P.E.
teacher. Six two, crew cut, blonde, buff. He was smoking a cigarette and wearing a nun’s outfit. “Yeah,” I told Suzette. “It’s going to be a good day.”

When the front doorbell sounded, the girls hurried to the parlor from several directions and got in line. The nun walked in. Suzette welcomed him to the BunnyRanch and walked him over to the lineup to meet the girls. I was around the corner, in Suzette’s office, listening. “You can have your pick of any of these lovely ladies,” Suzette said.

And the nun said, “Oh, I don’t want a girl. I’m here to work.” For a moment there, nobody knew what to do — not even Suzette.

Sarah, one of my more enterprising young ladies, piped up. “I do the hiring,” she said. “Come with me.” She led the nun into the rear office and told the cashier she needed an application. “This nice lady will be coming to work for us,” she said. She then turned to the nun and said, “There’s a $300 application fee.” The cashier was surprised, of course, but she played along. The nun paid. Sarah led the nun down the corridor, to the kitchen, and sat with him at the small table and helped him fill out the application.

They returned with the completed application and went into Suzette’s office for the “interview.” Suzette played along, too.
What makes you think you’d be a good working girl? What are your sexual experiences? Have you ever done this type of work before? I see from your application that you have never been convicted of a federal offense, but have you ever done anything illegal? Are you okay with blow jobs? Are you okay with anal
? The nun conducted herself with poise and style, and Suzette broke the good news: “You’re hired.”

Sarah congratulated the nun, and then led her off for the “standard” makeover. She did her hair and nails and spent a great deal of time on makeup. Then there was wardrobe to deal with, and a wig. The only small problem they ran into was finding size 10 shoes. All
of these services came with a small fee, of course, which added up to another six or seven hundred dollars.

When Sarah brought the nun back to the parlor, I had to fight to keep my jaw from dropping. She looked like Vince Neal, the singer from Mötley Crüe, in drag.

The nun said she was a little nervous and Sarah told her she could go to the bar and buy herself a drink. A few minutes later, the doorbell rang and all the girls gathered for the lineup, but the nun didn’t move from his seat at the bar. As soon as the client had made his choice, Sarah went over to the bar to have a little talk with her. “Hey, bitch, you can’t sit hang around the bar all day looking pretty. You need to make some money. Next time the doorbell rings, get in the lineup with the rest of us.”

Another client arrived a few minutes later and the nun joined the girls in the lineup. The guy studied the girls one at a time, slowly, appraisingly, and when he saw the nun he did a double take. You could almost hear him saying,
What the fuck
?!
He chose someone — not the nun — and off he went. For the next hour, every time a client arrived, the nun got in line with the other girls. After about the fifth lineup, Sarah went over and told the nun she was fired. “I’m sorry. You’re not cut out for this business. This is a tough industry and I think you would do better at Taco Bell.”