Legal brothels in Nevada, even with clients like Lamar Odom, are on the wane

CRYSTAL, Nev. – When Lamar Odom was found unconscious Tuesday inside a Nevada brothel, he’d wandered far off the beaten path of adult entertainment culture, back into an analog version of an increasingly high-tech sex-play universe.

Like Wayne Newton and mobsters wielding Tommy guns, the antics of the world’s oldest profession smack of a bygone era in Nevada. Brothels are under siege, more and more considered outdated and distasteful – even in the only state to sanction prostitution.

Legalized in Nevada in 1971, these so-called pleasure dens, many believe, are on their last legs.

“These brothels are really a relic of the past. Even here in Nevada, they’re relegated to what we call the cow counties,” said Nevada state Sen. Richard S. “Tick” Segerblom. “The urban areas have an appetite to abolish them. And given the state’s rapid urbanization, there’s really little popular support left for these businesses.”

Here’s how bad the situation has gotten.

Thanks to the anonymity of cyberspace, naughty adult hookups can be had at the click of an icon, rather than boozy all-male joy rides into the wilds of the Nevada desert.

Contrary to its reputation, Las Vegas does not condone legalized prostitution. The 300-odd legal prostitutes working in the state’s 17 brothels, shady hideaways with names like the Love Ranch, Angel’s Ladies and the Cherry Patch II, are isolated businesses.

While 12 of Nevada’s 16 counties allow brothels, the nearest one to Sin City is an hour’s drive to the west, in the small town of Pahrump.

George Flint, Nevada’s last surviving brothel lobbyist, retired earlier this year at age 81, a move that left the struggling industry without a voice in the legislative halls of Carson City.

Flint’s job lately had become more difficult. Despite his folksy back-slapping style, his message was shunned more and more by a new generation of elected officials.

In 2010, when Flint approached Barbara Buckley, then speaker of the Assembly, about allowing legalized prostitution in Las Vegas and surrounding Clark County, she winced. “She said, ‘George, get the hell out of my office,’ ” Flint recalled in a recent interview with the Los Angeles Times. “I told her, ‘I get the hint; I’ll come back later.’ ”

Later, when the lobbyist pitched former Clark County Sheriff Doug Gillespie, the lawman cut him off. Flint recalled: “He said: ‘Flint, you don’t need to explain anything to me. But let me tell you something: Keep your (butt) out of Clark County.’ ”

This year, most of the 17 freshman lawmakers in Nevada have avoided Flint like a bad cold. “Another anti-brothel movement can’t be far off,” he sighed in the recent interview.

But wait, for the brothels, it gets worse.

A few years ago, the famed Mustang Ranch threw a steak-and-lobster party for legislators. Three showed up. Only a handful of the state’s remaining brothels make a profit, Flint said. Most clients pay a few hundred dollars per visit. Special requests – and there’s lots on the menu – drive the bill up even more.

Flint said his last budget for political contributions made by the Nevada Brothel Owners Association reflected the plunge in the industry’s fortunes, dropping from $100,000 annually to $20,000.

But a few brothels continue to make stabs at remaining socially legitimate.

Sex tycoon Dennis Hof, who owns seven brothels in the state, including the Love Ranch, where Odom was found unconscious, has waged a public relations campaign to stay relevant.

He recently published “The Art of the Pimp,” a tabloid-like tell-all of the brothel industry, and Hof’s Moonlite Bunny Ranch in Carson City was featured in the HBO series “Cathouse,” which gave a day-to-day look at the lives of the women who work there.

Hof recently made news when he announced that he would begin assisting women in the Bunny Ranch pay off student loans by matching their debt payments. Three years ago, Hof even defended his industry in a speech he gave at Oxford University.

“My life has been a party for 20 years. When you legalize prostitution, you take out all of the criminal elements and get safer sex,” he said. “These girls are educated, young businesswomen.”

The Moonlite Bunny Ranch’s website also takes a few stabs at staying current in an era where potential patrons don’t stray far from their computer keyboards.

The site, along with photo galleries of such featured bunnies as Air Force Amy and Caressa Kisses, includes links to the so-called Bunny Ranch Radio and even a brothel press room.

The Love Ranch where Odom was found is indeed isolated, a collection of roughshod beige buildings a few hours northwest of Las Vegas, not far from the Last Chance mountain range.

The front area is lined with palm trees and alabaster statues of nude women in suggestive poses. Inside, the tiny apartment where Odom spent time with two employees, looks like any suburban bachelor pad, with portraits of tigers on the walls.

But that isolation, brothel operators say, is part of the appeal of the place.

On Wednesday, a day the establishment’s 10 female workers had the day off, Love Ranch Manager T.J. Moore stood outside as reporters waited for a tour of the brothel. Moore wouldn’t say how often Odom visited.

“We don’t kiss and tell,” she said. “That’s why we kept him so well-hidden.”

There are other signs that brothel owners are fighting back against what many consider to be their last gasp.

In 2012, Lance Gilman, owner of the Mustang Ranch, became the first of his kind to win election to public office in Nevada since prostitution was legalized in 1971.

Gilman won a seat as a Storey County commissioner by a wide margin. He’s believed to be the first to do so in the state’s 148-year history.

Brothel die-hards insist the industry has outlived other scares – such as AIDS in the ’80s – and can do so again.

But Odom’s collapse is just more bad news to businessmen by now used to bad news.

In an interview with the Times this year, former brothel owner Joe Richards, who once owned three establishments, did a bit of verbal hand-wringing over the fate of legalized prostitution in the Silver State.

He called Flint’s retirement an omen. “When George is gone, the industry’s going to be history,” he said.

Well, Flint is gone. And many believe the state’s brothel universe will be soon to follow.