"It scares the s--t out of me," she said. "Every time." Once inside, attendees carried whole bottles of vodka and plastic cups. They smoked cigars -- even a little marijuana on the patio -- and some wore Dolce & Gabbana sunglasses into the night. Everybody looked famous. Men and women watched and cheered as young women in bikinis danced on light boxes to rock music.
Women in skin-tight dresses huddled under heat lamps, chatting or sending text messages. One woman sat in the corner crying, inconsolable. The man she was with just looked out onto the water. A few minutes later, security guards started to stir. Electra and her fiance wanted to leave. It was about 1 a.m., less than two hours after they arrived. Security rushed them past the crowds and out the door. Boggs came next. He shook hands and embraced a police officer on the way out. A man who wouldn't give his name left about the same time. "It was OK," he said. "I wouldn't have paid for it." As he reached for his cell phone, dozens of finely dressed ticket-holders pressed against the glass waiting to get in, hoping to take in the final fleeting moments of the party that was already losing its breath.