I recently toured these California cities and I had very different experiences in both.  One, I left earlier than anticipated before I got too depressed and angry, the other, I was already trying to figure out when I could return.

After my long trip to the Northeast in July, I traveled to LA for my Bangbros shoot, and extended my stay to work for a few days at an incall location in the Valley.  I did well there, and I appreciated that another Asian porn actress had put me in contact with the booker.  However, I have zero interest in an environment where there is drama and disorganization.

Women can be catty and can be malicious bitches when we live/work in the same place.  I fully admit to how callous we can be.  Anyway, I did not wish to return to that setting after discovering this certain person was still there, and also because I was working at a lower rate than I wanted to be.

I decided to do my first tour as a completely independent provider, since I had departed from my Las Vegas agency, when I went back to LA at the end of August.  I advertised myself on the same site, Humaniplex, as the booker in Valley did, and also a few other sites.

I was unfamiliar with Humaniplex and I was not impressed that there was a rating system.  I got dinged by one individual because he did not like how I replied back.  Here is our exchange:

Bendherover:  This another agent/booker/pimp or are you independent now? I see the people that you used to work for have dinged you.

Me:  First off, I would never work for a pimp.  I am independent.  She dinged me because she thought it was someone impersonating me.

Bendherover:  First off, you have at least one pimp.  Unlicensed talent agency.  Second off, this is your second profile on HX.  Who was in control of the first one?  Yeah thought so.  Third off, why would you ding an account she thought was impersonating you?  Couldn’t just call/tweet/text/carrier pigeon you and confirm if it was.  Why on earth would she ding you if you’re working for her.  Fourth off, it’s no wonder you failed at porn.  That shitty attitude is working great for you isn’t it?

I have to give him props for at least writing in complete sentences and using mostly correct grammar and syntax in his response back to me.  And to be clear, that is what happened with the booker in LA.  I had inquired to her about coming and staying at the location again, but she did not respond back to me right away, and with the news of the other woman still being there, I decided to make other plans.  I cannot fault her for thinking someone may have impersonated me and put up a profile, and I agree with Bendherover, she could have asked me before she dinged me, but that was just a mistake and she thought she was looking out for me, so I have no qualms about that.  But how is my clarifying that I would never work for a pimp, and what had transpired between the former booker and I, deem me as having a shitty attitude?  And please tell me how I am failing at porn when I recently just shot for Bangbros, and the scene has since gotten a lot of traction?

The individual, I’ll refer to her as Nina, I mentioned above as causing a lot of drama, when she found out I was planning to book myself, she texted me saying this:

Nina:  Dude, what a way to show ur appreciation for helping u out and having you work with my girl.  Your shady ways will catch up to you.

Me:  Excuse me?  There is nothing wrong with me working for myself.  I’m really disappointed that this is your response.  I should not be threatened for me wanting to work on my own.

Nina:  U lied about clients info

Me:  What are you talking about?

Nina:  Shit u wrote down

Me:  I did not write a single person’s information down.  For you to infer that is accusatory and wrong.

Nina:  That is what you told me when we spoke about the reasoning of you needing every clients specific info to write down so you’d remember

Me:  No, I did not say that.

Nina:  Ok then

I’m wrong

Me:  I said I wrote down what their name is and where they’re from because I like to remember who I slept with.

Nina:  I guess the billions of convos we had I could’ve not remembered that ONE we had

Me:  (I then sent her photos of the notes I took regarding each client.)

Not a single person’s number.

You even said to me, “You know you’re not supposed to take their numbers or anything?”  And I responded, “Yes, I know.  I know not to do that.”  And then I corrected you again by saying what information I specifically write down.

For you to threaten me and accuse me of lying is very petty and disappointing.

Nina:  Ok so is ur character

To be even more specific, when I was having that original conversation with her and telling her how I like to know what the clients’ names are, she was texting.  And we did not have billions of conversations because I was busy working.  And when I first arrived there, I brought up the subject of my “mother,” who called me a “fucking ingrate” the day I left New York, and basically implied that I was a diseased whore.  When trying to have a deep, revealing conversation with this person that I thought was a friend, she cut me off and said, “I don’t want to hear this.  It’s too negative.”

Back to Humaniplex…

“What’s your menu and rates? What’s your menu and rates? What’s your menu and rates?”

That is the content of 95% of the messages I received on there.  I am not used to this since I advertise on p411 and TER.  I raised my rates 100 more than what the booker had originally booked me for, to compensate for the price of the hotel.  I had one person laugh at me, 99% never responded back after I told them my rates, and I only had one repeat client who I saw in July, who booked me again.

And needless to say, I have deleted my profile on HX and will not be posting on there again.

I also advertised myself on Eros.  I had one person begging if I would see him for 250, when my ad for Eros alone cost 260. I saw two people in LA.  The money I had saved the previous month went towards all my expenses.  I was negative about 1500.

Granted, I went the last week of August, right before Labor Day, but I did not expect to do so poorly. I got the fuck out of there.  I left Wednesday night so I could come home to wagging tails and loving purrs because I was fucking depressed and pissed.

I’m realistic and I’m a cynic.  I know I will never do as well as white girls with great tits or fake boobs, especially in LA.  Fuck, even in New York City, I do not do that well.  Providers go there and they can make 10-15K in two weeks.  I barely made a profit when I was there in both March and July.

Anyway, I really do despise LA.  It is extremely superficial.  Intelligence is not a quality the majority of men tend to look for there.  And even my friend from Brooklyn, who now lives in LA and works in film, not adult film, says the same thing.  It’s all about who you know in LA.  And if you don’t know anyone, that means you are not anyone.

So I drove back to Vegas and all I did was cry as I was hugging my dogs.  I felt defeated.  I was defeated.  And I felt like a failure.  I was going away to Mendocino with this amazing, brilliant gentleman the following week and I could not pay for rent and all my bills, plus my pet sitters.

How am I in this position? Why am I still failing at life? Why do I have negative dollars to my name?  My “mother” is correct, I thought, in her one text she sent to me as I was already crying during my layover in Charlotte, “Pay your F’ing bills, give your animals to respectable families, and live within your means.  All you want is quick cash and entitlement.  Shove that down your deep throat and gag. Shove your blaming attitude up your banana ass whole.”

I should premise this with the fact that I got behind on a few car payments earlier this year, so she helped me and charged her credit card to pay for what I was behind in, even though I did not as her to do so.  She did not like my tweet that I wrote the night before I departed, “It was great to be back home but I cannot wait to get away from my mother and her fifty fucking questions.”  So of course she threw her kindness in my face and called me a “fucking ingrate,” then sent me that text, as well as a few others, threatening me.

It was just a lot of drama, anger, and disappointment within a short time frame.  And here I was supposed to be going up to Northern California for the first time with this kind gentleman, and I didn’t know how I was going to be able to pay the bills that needed to be paid for before I left. I went into my really dark place relatively quickly.  I think the implant was definitely fucking with my depression too.  “You can’t kill yourself,” I said, “this man is taking a vacation with you to this beautiful place.”

Luckily, a friend came through for me.  He’s a poker player and loaned me the money I needed to ensure all my bills would be paid and my account not overdrawn while I was away, so long as I agreed to give him 10% interest.  I could breathe again for the first time I had gotten back to Vegas.  Thank you again, man.

Now onto San Francisco! Oh, before that, Mendocino was beautiful and amazing, and also remote.  Hence me saying, please contact me by email because I had no service up there. My dumbass learned a few things about photography which I am interested in, especially since I did not take a photography class when I went back to school.  I was gifted with a professional camera and lens, some sticky weed, and a vibrator.  Can’t really complain about any of those things.  Ha.  Plus, the company I had.  He tried and is trying his hardest to convince me to not be so hard on myself and not be so pessimistic and fatalistic.  Yeah, that’s going to take several more years or may never happen.  He knows this, he understands this, and THAT I appreciate.

It was my first time in San Francisco.  My friends kept getting on my case, “You’ve been on the West coast for almost two years and you haven’t been to San Fran yet?”  I finally went.  I failed to bring a coat, which I was reminded of as we drove back into San Fran, and I saw all the pedestrians with jackets on.  A lot of Asians.  Haha. Actually, I texted a few friends that when I first flew in.

One of the days we were walking around and the Autumn Moon Festival was going on, so there were Asians everywhere.  I said, “Well, it’ll be easy to find me if we get separated because I’m the only blonde Asian.”

I liked the vibe there. I stayed in Union Square, which is fitting because I love Union Square in NYC.  The food was good.  And I checked out a couple beer places.  I caught up with a friend that I haven’t seen in three years, who is also an artist, so he understands me.

My artist friends that I met when I went back to school to try and get four more degrees, but failed to do because I stupidly fell in love, they will probably be my friends for life.  They understand me in a way that others do not.  I love them for being pillars of optimism and support throughout my darkest moments.

Anyway, back to my trip. In my business, you’re usually alone. Unless you tour with someone, but in my case, I’m by myself.  So I’m usually exploring and eating alone.  I went to this Italian place that was just up a block from my hotel.  I sat at the bar.  The bartender was efficient and friendly.  Two ladies sat down next to me, but they did not know each other. We all got our meals relatively around the same time, so the one woman, farthest to me, asked the women who was sitting in between us, what she ordered, because she ordered something specific. The conversation began from there.

The woman farthest from me was from Phoenix, AZ so we had the desert heat in common.  And the woman directly next to me was from New York, but she travels three hundred days of the year for work.  She and I started discussing how everything closes at 11 pm in San Fran.  We go to dinner at 9 in NYC.  “Am I supposed to go to dinner at 5:30?  I’m old, but I’m not THAT old,” she joked.  She was in Las Vegas before coming to San Francisco, so yes, there was discussion about everything that is lacking and sucks about Vegas.

It was a pleasant moment to feel a comradery between the three of us as single women.  I did not feel so lonely.  But I could feel the tug of loneliness as I said good night to these two women, and walked back out into the brisk, bay air.

Thank goodness my trip was the opposite of LA.  It started to look glum, but I left being able to pay my friend back and still be in the positive.  San Francisco might be a city I frequently visit, more so than LA or NYC.  It will never be as great as New York.  The west coast has such a lazy, slower vibe to it than NYC.  My artist friend noted my New York pace as we went to go grab some drinks.

But I got to thinking, why do I have to love and like the two most expensive cities in the country? I could never live in either. Besides the point that I need a yard for my menagerie, unless I’m making two or three times what I make now, I could never afford it.  So I guess I’ll just have to settle visiting these two great cities every now and then to keep myself intellectually sane.