I worked in a trucker motel for a summer. You don’t speak to the girls and you treat the pimp like he doesn’t exist. If the girls speak to you, you pretend not to hear them. I was a 19 year-old virgin and I managed to dodge a freebie on my birthday from one of the girls who worked the front desk by babbling about a girl I was dating at the time (Thank you Karen)
Just so you know, there is no such thing as a freebie. And a pimp is referred to as “my boyfriend” by the girls.
In 1975, I had a short assignment at a molybdenum mine 90 miles west of Las Vegas. Vegas was the only place to get a motel room. It was my first time there and I was really put off by the place. I was a real we-behind-the-ears kid, 24 at the time.
I was out for a walk taking in all the neon lights (remember, this was ‘75) and a mediocre looking black woman passed me on the sidewalk going the other way. She asked “Hey, would you like a date?” I thought to myself “this is sure a friendly town” so I replied “Yeah.” It only took me a minute to figure out what “date” meant and it wasn’t like those I had in high school or college. I said “No thanks” and walked on.