Producer Number 1
I went to the AVNs with Jeremy Bilding where I met a porn producer, lets call him Mr. Slim. He gave me his card, I gave him mine. He was wearing a leopard print sports coat with two weathered-looking females dangling from each arm. I paid no mind and threw his card in my purse among the lip gloss and dirtied bills.
Three weeks later, I received an email from Mr. Slim. He said he looked at my site and wanted to help me. He told me I have potential to really make something great and he likes to help girls who want to get into the porn biz. “The next time you come to LA, contact me,” he said. “I want to help you out. I don’t normally do this, but I see something in you.”
I was suspicious of his words, but made it clear to him that I am no pushover. I told him I would never work like a dog for his site and I was not interested in anything except my own business. Yet, I was still curious.

I googled Mr. Slim. The man was legit with several running websites that he claimed had at least 300 solid members every month. He was also awarded an AVN in the hall of fame. His gonzo porn was rather raunchy and raw, but I figured that was his niche-old school, hardcore, cum on tits and ass, pussy in your face porn. Admittedly, I occasionally enjoy smut myself.

The next time I ventured out to the city of Angels to see my favorite partner in crime, Avflox, I decided since I was going to be in LA anyway, I might as well meet up with Mr. Slim. The second I told him I was coming, I was bombarded with text messages. He seemed overly excited for my arrival. I told him we should meet for lunch, he said to come meet him at his studio. His studio turned out to be a home address in the valley and he couldn’t meet us for lunch because “my Ferrari is in the shop baby,” he said.

“He wants you to meet him in a house in the valley?! Are you crazy?” said AVflox.
“That’s why I want you to come with me,” I said. “Come on, he sounds ok and I’m curious.”
She agreed and we ventured out to Ventura.

I had never been to the valley. Born and raised in California, I always stuck to the coastline. The Valley- It looked rather run-down and exhausted, much like those girls who were attached to Mr. Slim’s arms at the AVNs . As we drove past Muhulland Drive, I started to feel as if this trip was a bad idea.

This is the porn capital?” I asked AV.
“Yup. Creepy, huh,” she said.  

As we pulled up to Mr. Slim’s “production home” we were confused.

“Wait a minute, this is a duplex,” I said.
“Yeah it is. He makes his porn in this?” AV commented.

The house had white paint chipping off the sides and an old Buick parked in the front. I called Mr. Slim.

“Uhh Slim?” I asked.
“Yes! Jessica! Are you here?” he asked.
“Yeah, are you in a duplex?” I laughed a little.
“It’s not a duplex, it’s a big house my dear.”
“Right, hence the two addresses. And is that a Buick parked in the front? Are we at the right place?”
“Yes. I’ll have my assistant come and get you. I ordered you a salad as well.”
“I brought my friend, can you get her one too?”
“Your friend? Oh, is she interested in doing porn?”
“No, she is a writer.”

“Oh well I can’t have her here, sorry. I mean I guess, but if she is not interested in working for me then I can’t be showing her around. I can show you around the house, but not her. She will have to wait in the office.”

“Show me around? Show me what? I thought we were having a meeting, not a tour of your house. Likewise, I feel more comfortable if she is with me.”

“Hunny I have hundreds of girls come through here weekly, I don’t understand why you are so nervous.”

I put him on speaker as we drove away.

“You know what? I don’t think I am interested. We are going to go,” I said.

“Oh baby, you are so green. This is how this business works. Get with it. We shoot in houses, it’s not a big deal. I set my entire day aside for you.”

“Well I was not looking to shoot anything, you said you wanted to give me some pointers for my site and talk about some possible work for you, that’s it.”

“You have no idea how this all works. It’s too bad you are so paranoid that you don’t know a real producer when you talk to one. It’s insulting to me. You’ve been to my website, read about me, you contacted me when you came out here, remember?”

“I respect you experience and business acumen, that’s not in question. What unsettles me is the lack of respect. I may not be in porn, but I am a business woman. I will discuss business in a  proper setting and I will not entertain insults when I express my discomfort at arrangements. If this is how you do business, I thank you immensely for the lesson about this industry and regretfully decline.”

“Google my address. It comes up as my production company. I’ve been here over 10 years. Made over 400 movies here. Have had over 2500 girls here to shoot and interview. Congrats, you are the first to think it’s weird and not show up. I guess 1/2500 ratio isn’t bad for me.”

“Then perhaps I should be the one offering the congratulations. Thank you for your time.”


Producer Number 2

He contacted me a year before and we chatted via phone. “Jessica!! I read your tweets you are an amazing girl! I love your style and how you tell people like it is. You are smart, sexy, you got it all! I think we could really create something together!”

His name,-lets call him Stevey. Stevey is a “executive producer” from Hollywood who shoots various low-budget reality shows for small cable networks. Think MTV.

A year later Stevey was on his way to Vegas and made sure to message me. He said he wanted to finally meet the Jessica Janson and possibly discuss some ideas for a new reality show. “We are also trying to do another season of -redacted- and one of our girls can’t do it. Think if you could be on the show instead!”

I was interested and again, curious, so I agreed to meet him. Stevey said he was going to be shooting all day and couldn’t meet me until after 10 pm.  I took the night off from dancing and told him to meet me at The Playboy Club at The Palms Hotel/Casino- one of my favorite clubs in Vegas. He said he would be there by 11. I waited at the bar until midnight.

I was shocked when I put a face to the voice. For some reason I pictured Stevey a tall, thin, surfer dude and Stevey was short, chubby with arched eyebrows and black eyes.

“Jessica Janson! Wow!! You are more gorgeous in person! I’m so happy to finally meet you! Do you want a drink? Do you smoke?”

“No I don’t. I’ll take a glass of champagne.”

He ordered a vodka cranberry, my champagne and puffed on a Marlboro, edging his butterball body into the chair.

“Wow you are so hot. You are like the whole package!” he exclaimed.

“Thanks. So what is it that you want to create?” I asked.

“I don’t know! What do you think?”

“Well, ok, I’m thinking a reality show about strippers. Something that shows us in the raw, about our real lives, something of a documentary style.”

He stared at me blankly.

“I know! Stripper road trip! Strippers go on a stripping tour all over the country and live in a tour bus together,” he said.

“That might be cool. Although our lives in Vegas are pretty damn interesting.”

“I know! Strippers live in a house in Vegas and the drama begins!”

“Yeah. But not fake drama. I don’t want people to think we are all fucked up drama queens. We are women from all walks of life. I think if you show that it would interest people. Strippers are moms or we are party girls, we are business women, we are smart and edgy. I think people have their set stereotypes of who we are and we need to set it straight and show that these girls are all different.”

Stevey stared at me blankly again.

“You know Jessica you are so fucking hot I can’t get over it! Like, WOW! Do you have a boyfriend?”


I gulped a second glass of champagne.

“What does this have to do with me having a boyfriend?” I asked.

I was starting to get tipsy.

“Nothing! I’m just thinking a girl like you has to have a boyfriend.”

“Ok…anyway, I think it would be cool to show dancers as human beings. The girls of Vegas are the lifeblood of this city. Without us, this place would not be what it is. We could show this on tv.”

“Right. God you are so stunning. Want another glass of champagne?”

“No I’m ok.”

This was going nowhere. Between his countless cigarettes and after about four cocktails I could see he was getting tipsy too and not listening to a damn thing I was saying. This wasn’t a business meeting. Stevey was trying to turn this into a fucking date. And I don’t date unless I’m getting paid.

I wanted to leave but I wasn’t sober enough to be driving, so the next best thing was to hit a crowded club and drink a lot of water. I was done with the conversation.

“Let’s go to club Moon,” I said.
“Ok! Great!”

We walked into Moon and it was packed. We swam through the crowd to the back bar and Stevey immediately ordered another vodka cranberry.

“What do you want to drink?”

“Water,” I said. “So I don’t get what it is you want to shoot with me.”

“Well I have some cameras in my room right now if you want to shoot some stuff, heh heh…”

“Excuse me?”
“Nothing. I love my girlfriend. I just really want to do business with you Jessica. I’m going to make you famous!” 

And with those words my temper ensued.

“I have absolutely no interest in being famous. This is Vegas. We get money. You want to do fucking business with me Stevey? Give me two grand and let’s go to your room right now!” I yelled into his ear as the music vibrated through the floor and into my body.

“Yeah well if that was the case, I would fuck the shit outta you,” he said.

“Wow. I have to go,” I said.

I turned and started walking out. Stevey followed.
As we exited the club, he tried to take my arm.

“No thanks.”

“Oh come on, take my arm. I’m trying to be a gentleman. I’m trying to help you walk.”

I looked down at his short chubby body, I was inches taller than him. I’m 5’7 and in heels I stand about 6 ft.

“I’m fine. I don’t need your fucking help walking.”

I walked out to the valet as Stevey insisted on coming with me. I was embarrassed at this point to be seen with him and ran across the walkway. He still followed.

“Well Jessica it was awesome meeting you! Let’s keep coming up with ideas for our tv show!”
“Yeah, whatever,” I said, hopped into my car and drove away into the Vegas lights.

If I’ve learned anything in my industry, I’ve learned this: when you mix business with pleasure, most the men expect the pleasure and are horrible at business. I treasure the men that can remain professional and unfortunately, they are far and few.