Sunday, April 10, 2005
Copyright © Las Vegas Review-Journal

JUST A JOB: Strip Tease

Hawkers giving away sexy handbills annoy many tourists, business owners

Handbill distributors working 12-hour days make about $5 an hour giving out cards featuring racy pictures of women and promises of adult entertainment direct to hotel rooms. Here, a man studies a card that was handed to him as he strolls along the Strip recently. Photo by Jane Kalinowsky. Most of the cards and racy fliers that are given to tourists on the Strip end up on the ground or in trash cans, say those who hand them out. Photo by Jane Kalinowsky.

On the eastern corner of Las Vegas Boulevard and Rue de Monte Carlo, in front of Denny's and Aunt Martha's Gifts, thousands of people pass by every day.

They juggle packages and bags and jostle against each other, especially on the narrow stretch of sidewalk that slopes downward into the asphalt entrance leading to the small shops. A sea of people parts around a utility pole, half stepping into the street to avoid the gutter, the other half squeezing past a green sandwich board sign advertising rental rates for the electric cars parked nearby.

It is at this spot, where the flow of people clogs into a momentary mass of awkwardness, that Carlos Garcia, 33, can be found every day, barring rain. If you've walked this path, chances are good that the Mexican immigrant has thrust his arm in front of you, offering a handful of cards depicting nearly nude women and their discounted rates for providing private entertainment in hotel rooms.

"This is my place," he says with a grin.

After nine years of distributing such material to tourists on the Strip, the process is second nature to Garcia. He sees a cluster of people crossing the drive and his fingers go to work, deftly sorting through three stacks of different cards, preparing a small bundle for his next mark.

When the crowd makes its way to him, he sticks his right arm in front of a man, and gives the edges of the cards an attention-grabbing "click, click, click" of his thumb. The man ignores them, but Garcia is undeterred; he thrusts them toward another and another, then a group of people talking and laughing together. And he does it lightning fast, without touching a single person.

To some people, Garcia is a nonentity. They act as though they don't even see him. A few take the cards and offer their thanks while others give him a wide berth, reacting as though he were trying to hand them a deadly illness.

Garcia doesn't take their annoyed responses personally.

"Some people have bad reaction. Some people say that's my sister or my daughter," Garcia says in broken English.

He shrugs.

"It's a job. It's just a job."

He's out here 12 hours a day, seven days a week. If he let every negative response get to him, it would consume his life, he explains. Doing this, he says, affords him regular food and shelter, something that wasn't available to him in economically depressed Mexico.

But standing on the receiving end of the cards, it's hard to see it as anything more than an annoying inconvenience. Many tourists and local business owners consider the handbills, and those who hand them out, a nuisance.

On a recent Saturday, Brian, visiting from Sacramento with his wife and young daughters, jumped visibly at the cards and gave Garcia a horrified look.

Brian was angry because Garcia approached him when he was with his family, explains his wife Sarah, who declined to give their last name. "I was here last year and I was walking with my mom and my daughter and they shoved them at us. It's fine other times, but when you see people with their kids, don't hand them out. It just makes Las Vegas seem trashier than it is. I think it's terribly annoying."

Yes, it is bothersome, says Garry Steinbach from Texas, but it's to be expected in Las Vegas.

"I think the whole thing's sleazy, myself," Steinbach says, walking briskly toward his hotel. "It's uncalled for but you know it's going to happen. Vegas has that reputation."

County and city officials have long waged a battle against the distribution of handbills on the Strip and downtown. Government leaders have claimed that the pamphleteers impede the flow of foot traffic and interfere with private businesses. The American Civil Liberties Union contends that the distributors have a constitutional right to distribute material without interference from the police or casino operators because the Strip is public property. So far, handbillers are winning in the court of law but not in the eyes of the public.

Most people take the cards without a word, Garcia says, then discard them, usually on the ground. Walking along the Strip, you can spot them strewn on the sidewalks or in the streets. It's this aspect that angers business owners and managers, says Joel Jenkins, manager of Aunt Martha's Gifts. He rents out the colorful cars at Zap Electric, too.

"There are only three of them now but there used to be nine (hawkers)," he says, stretching his arms out to encompass the length of sidewalk where the solicitors ply their cards. "I am trying to run a family business and these things end up in the cars and on the sidewalk out here. It makes the cars look bad. I have nothing against them personally and I'm aware of amendments one and three and I know they have a right to earn a living. But they should be responsible for the (trash). I spend half my day out here picking up the cards."

Although many of the cards end up as rubbish, outcall companies send the peddlers out time and again with a seemingly endless supply of materials because they help fuel a lucrative business, says author Jack Sheehan, who researched the local sex industry for his book "Skin City: Uncovering the Las Vegas Sex Industry." The handful of men who run the outcall services are the biggest winners. To a lesser degree, the women who answer the calls by going to tourists' hotel rooms also benefit, he adds.

The people who probably benefit the least are Garcia, and others like him, who stand outside in the elements every day, dealing with angry, drunk or rude people, the run-ins with the police and other unforeseen problems. Garcia earns about $55 a day, or $4.58 an hour, less than minimum wage.

Garcia's face, neck and hands are dark, nearly black, from too much sun, but his weathered features are cheerful and bright. Yes, he says, the job has a few hassles, but he's not complaining.

Many hawkers are illegal immigrants, like Garcia says he once was. Miguel Angel, who came to the United States illegally from Mexico, stands next to Garcia, smiling and answering questions in Spanish. What would he do if the police came? Run, probably, Angel says with a smile and a shrug, like many did a few days before when approached by police.

Identification checks are routine, Garcia says. If their material is deemed too racy or seems to be advertising prostitution, the hawkers are subject to arrest, and deportation, he adds.

Garcia says he spent 30 days in jail recently. He says he was arrested on an outstanding warrant for soliciting prostitution when the police cited him for leaving his cards on fences and at newspaper stands.

"Police say, `You stay over here, we don't have a problem. You put cards everywhere or go to the bus stop, we arrest you.' " Garcia says. "I put cards everywhere, the police put me in jail."

That's only partially true, says a spokesman for the Las Vegas Metropolitan Police Department.

People who hand out handbills must have a permit to distribute them, says Jose Montoya, a public information officer for the department. They also cannot impede pedestrian traffic or block a sidewalk or litter. If they do, Montoya notes, they can be cited or arrested.

"We don't deal with them being legal or not," Montoya says. "But we always ask for ID. We have to know who we're dealing with."

Garcia says he accepts the pitfalls and hassles that come with doing his job. His options are limited and he may have to return to Mexico if he can't find higher-paying work.

"It's just a job. I'm looking for another, better job. I want to stay here a long time," he says.