Читать книгу My Appetite for Destruction: Sex & Drugs & Guns ‘N’ Roses - Steven Adler - Страница 38

It was a time in Hollywood where the overriding attitude about sex and drugs was to be free and out in the open. There was no panic over herpes or AIDS, no worries. Saul and I would hang out at Osco’s Disco on La Cienega just across the street from the Beverly Center.

Of course, it wasn’t normal for fourteen-year-old kids to hang out at a disco, but we had an older look to us. And even if we got carded, Saul, who was an expert artist, had taken our IDs and changed the date to make us of legal age. We never had a hard time getting alcohol or getting into the place. We went there just about every weekend of 1977 and 1978. There were like ten different theme rooms in the place. They were mostly sexual in nature, with settings like the baths of ancient Rome, open deserts with rolling dunes, a fully equipped dominatrix chamber, the wildest shit.

Upstairs and downstairs, everybody was doing coke and something called “rush,” the popular drug fad at the time. It came in a bottle, and you were supposed to remove the cap and inhale the vapors from the liquid while you were having sex. By raising your heartbeat to insane levels, rush was supposed to intensify the orgasm experience. Throughout the night, we would go through all the rooms. It was an eye-popping experience. We never got bored, and if things started to lag, we’d just pop to another theme room. It didn’t matter; they were all saturated with booze, drugs, and blaring disco.

It seemed like the more crazy the spectacles we witnessed, the more we hungered for wilder, more perverse thrills. Nothing could shock us anymore. Our nerves were deadened to the point that we stood there watching a three-on-one with the girl servicing every sick whim, only to be manhandled to the point that it was a borderline rape, and we’d be like, “Whatever. Next.”