Sunday, January 30, 2005
Copyright © Las Vegas Review-Journal

JOHN L. SMITH: Celebration of pimp culture lost on old-fashioned and, thankfully, IRS

It's a pimp's life these days from cable television to a nightclub near you.

Channel surf a minute and the image of the whore-slapping party animal with the tricked-out ride and the endless bankroll emerges, grinning and posing and talking trash. Whether it's the ubiquitous Snoop Dogg, a re-run of the Hughes brothers' "American Pimp," or the popular show "Pimp My Ride," the character of the supersleazy, overdressed procurer dripping in gold and girlfriends has become a pop celebrity icon.

In Las Vegas, that image can pay big bucks. Promoter John Huntington made a fortune and a name for himself as the entrepreneur behind the hugely successful Pimp 'n Ho Costume Ball. Huntington and partner Carey Hart these days are busy with the Hart & Huntington Tattoo Company at the Palms resort. In fact, the whole pimp lifestyle appears in keeping with the official marketing strategy of Las Vegas, where anything goes and discretion is the byword.

In a tourist metropolis that celebrates sin, it's understandable that prostitution would be an illegal but sizable part of the economy. Given such a hedonistic atmosphere, there's a good argument to be made for tolerance and even legalization of the oldest profession.

But for the life of me I can't find one good reason for the community to countenance pimps in its midst any more than you'd be proud of ticks on a dog. From the looks of the fare on television and at some red-hot resorts, I guess that makes me old-fashioned.

Fortunately for this community's shaky credibility, a few agents with the Internal Revenue Service criminal investigations division and some diehards on Metro's vice squad are old-fashioned, too. They know better than most people about the reality of the sex trade in Las Vegas. They know it's part of the Vegas vacation experience for scores of tourists, and they also know there's little appetite to change its murky legal status.

But they also know about the kids who get conned by the soothing patter and the bright lights. And getting rid of the pimps can be next to impossible.

Take that 16-year-old Portland girl, for instance. She didn't have a chance against an experienced hustler like Las Vegan Paul Ransom, also known as "Baby Grand." Ransom filled her with talk about glamorous, lucrative modeling jobs, but in the end she found herself having sex with strangers for money that she kicked back to Baby Grand. They went to several cities before eventually making their way to Las Vegas.

The kid quickly learned that Ransom was sensitive about his profession. "Ransom stated that he did not like to be called a pimp, he liked to be called a businessman," an IRS agent recalled the girl saying.

Businessman Ransom was 53 years old. According to court documents, he had a business relationship with a Portland man named Jonathan Flake, who provided him with underage girls. The two appear to have been business partners.

These days, Ransom is preparing to be sentenced after pleading guilty in December to a federal money laundering charge.

Money laundering?

Precisely.

Prostitution tends to be a cash business, and the transactions of businessmen Ransom and Flake were, according to court documents, easy to track. Even homes purchased under assumed names must be paid for, and cash transactions aren't disguised long by money orders and misdirection.

Pursuing pimps and their posses by using federal money laundering statutes is a novel way to address a recurring street cancer. If Ransom tells his story in court, Flake and others charged in the case will have a hard time talking themselves out of trouble.

It's not a new story. In fact, the theme is downright mundane in Las Vegas, where the urban coyotes have grown fat on the young, lost and unsophisticated. Using federal money laundering statutes on the worst offenders -- and those who exploit children are the worst of the worst -- hits them hard enough to yank them off the street for substantial jail time.

Baby Grand's days as a pimp daddy could be over, but if he plays his cards right he'll probably wind up with his own television show.

John L. Smith's column appears Tuesday, Wednesday, Friday and Sunday. E-mail him at Smith@reviewjournal.com or call 383-0295.