The year was 1979 and I had been in Las Vegas for a couple years of pure hedonism. One of my many adventures happened, as most did, fueled by alcohol and drugs.
I had a very rich girlfriend (my girlfriend of five years had walked out on me. She had every right).
I was a pig.
But Alysse did not care. She could care less if I was still living with three strippers. Or that I had not been loyal to one girlfriend I ever had. I was 0 for something. She just liked me to go out and do things with her, to show her off to her girlfriends.
These were the meanest, back-stabbing-est, HOT girls ever assembled. All four of them were from mega-rich families and not one of them had a boyfriend.
Now you know you are a bitch when you are smoking hot, have piles of money, and guys still don’t want to go out with you.
So I was a kept cabana boy for Alysse who spent most of her time doing business as an owner of a helicopter business. She told me she wanted me to come to a party at her house.
Some house. Maybe 8000 sq.ft. of mad luxury.
A moat around the “house.”
There were probably ten helicopters in a landing pad in a semi-circle behind the house.
So I am bumping elbows with the uber-rich and slamming down Dom Perignon like it’s water.
Evidently, there was some romance attached to being an Executive Chef in Vegas, so I was having a great time.
This guy walk up to me and said “What a bash! Hey you wanna get stoned?”
This is the part of the movie where they would pan to my face with my best Oh- really? Ya think? Face.
So we head upstairs to one of the fifteen bedrooms. He seemed to know where he was going. He opened the first door on the right as we headed down a massive hallway.
“Come on in. Close the door behind you.” He pulled a small mirror off the wall and poured out a pile of white-blue high-grade cocaine.
Turns out my new main man Petrov dealt in this stuff.
So now it is thirty minutes later and we are both zombies.
Petrov says “Let’s take a ride. Even if you have seen Las Vegas at night, you really haven’t seen Las Vegas at night.”
So out we go through the huge doors and we are walking out to the helipad.
The party is in full swing and you could hear the string quartet in the warm desert.
After looking into several copters, he waved me over.
“Come on. Let’s go!”
The next thing I hear is the soft whir of the copter as it started up. I was surprised at how quiet it was.
Off we go, into the night, rising up within minutes of the world-famous Las Vegas Strip. We were so close, I was sure we would be in big trouble. So we ended up heading all the way up the strip from the Hacienda to the Fremont downtown.
There was a whole lot of empty space north of the Fremont as North Las Vegas was just a few houses and apartments at that time. And lots of empty fields leading up to Nellis Air Force Base.
It was so awesome this trip and then Petrov shouted to me.
“Buckle in and hold on. I’m putting her down.”
We landed in a big patch of desert.
I looked over at Petrov and he said “Get out! Quick!” Don’t you hear the sirens?”
Confused, I asked what’s going on? Isn’t this your helicopter?”
He shouted as he continued hauling ass “No, I crashed that party and I have had a few lessons. This was my first solo.”