“Markus” (real name: Patrick) greets me in glasses, a satin blue shirt and slacks, and leads me to a bedroom where we sit opposite each other as I fumble for the cash out of my “Precious Moments” pocketbook. That, and the occasional sign about the importance of using latex condoms. The scene: mostly dust, sunlight and sadness. And sorry, ladies - he can’t go back to back “because he puts so much into it”). Because truly: Nothing gets you in the mood for a legal male hooker like “Wind Beneath My Wings.”Īt 3 p.m., I arrive at the appropriately titled Shady Lady Ranch for my two-hour booking (Prices: $200 for 40 minutes, $300 for one hour. I’m sweaty, stinky and pumped from listening to “lite-romance” radio. The Post had to have a go at this gigolo.Ī $500 cash advance, an overnight flight to Vegas and a 2 1/2-hour car ride later, I arrive at the brothel. This month, as Nevada anointed the country’s first-ever legal male prostitute - in the form of “Markus,” a 25-year-old beefy ex-Marine - it became incredibly clear that one thing had to happen immediately. Who would hire the first legal male hooker in the country?Ī desperate spinster? A lonely divorcee? A New York Post reporter on undercover assignment?Īnswer: All of the above.
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