Makeup to Breakup: My Life in and Out of Kiss by Peter Criss & Larry Sloman

Author:Peter Criss & Larry Sloman [Criss, Peter & Sloman, Larry]
Language: eng
Format: epub, azw, mobi
Tags: Music, Biography, Azizex666
ISBN: 9781451620825
Amazon: 1451620829
Barnesnoble: 1451620829
Goodreads: 13547367
Publisher: Scribner
Published: 2012-10-23T04:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

It should have been a tip-off, but I was too stoned on coke to realize it. Along with two hundred other guests, I was waiting for Deb to come to L’Orange, one of the most exclusive and expensive restaurants in L.A., so we could make our wedding vows and then party all night. I started getting nervous when she was half an hour late.

“Where the fuck is she?” I mumbled to Neil Bogart. “Maybe she’s not gonna come.”

This conversation was taking place in the bathroom.

“Here, this will help you out,” Neil said, and passed me a vial of coke.

That conversation was repeated with Larry Harris, another Casablanca executive, and a few of my other friends. Each time I got the consolation prize of a vial. And each time I had to chase that electric feeling with a nice scotch.

After two hours, Deb finally showed up. By then I was pie-eyed, but so was she. Her pupils were totally dilated and she was half in the bag.

“Where were you?”

“I was with Eileen back at the bungalow,” she said. I had rented a nice bungalow for us at the Beverly Hills Hotel.

“We opened a bottle of champagne and we found your blow so we started doing it,” she said. Three bottles and a few grams later, it finally crossed their minds that Deb had a wedding to attend.

I wasn’t going to let a little tardiness spoil my big day. We had gone all-out for this wedding. Chris Lendt, who loved to do stuff like this, made all the arrangements, including getting a custom-made cake from one of the best patisseries in town. We began the festivities with a black-tie prewedding dinner for two hundred people at Regine’s in New York City. Once we got to L.A., I passed on a bachelor party and instead had a dinner a few nights before the wedding at Chasen’s, the legendary Hollywood restaurant. Chasen’s was my ultimate spot, because Humphrey Bogart used to be a regular there. At one point in the evening I decided to do my Fred Astaire impression, so I took off my jacket and leaped up onto the table and danced. The food went everywhere, but I didn’t care. I was living my Hollywood dream.

The wedding itself was marred by an ugly incident involving my parents. I had seated my parents at a prime table in the front of the room. Deb and I were up on the dais. Between the salad and the main course, Deb’s mother and her aunt, who had married a very prominent Beverly Hills dentist to the stars, came up and sat down with us. They were both pretty bombed and just stayed there drinking and bullshitting. Somehow this bothered my mother.

“How the fuck can they go sit up there and we can’t?” she fumed to my father.

I could see that she was upset, so I went over to their table.

“What’s the matter, Ma?”

“This is bullshit. We’re leaving,” she said.

“Where are you going?” I was in shock.

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