Atlantic City casino scourge Don Johnson (not to be confused with 80s-era TV scourge Don Johnson) must have seen the damage the Bruins did in the MGM Grand bar in Foxwoods recently. He must have burned with envy. For those of you unaware, Don Johnson has earned the dubious moniker of "The Champagne King" because he buys pricey bottles of bubbly in Vegas. But what he did in London this past weekend is rubbish. It's utter rubbish. You don't get to brag about your rock star friends and how hard you party, Don Johnson, when you produce an unseemly bar tab like this. Yeah, yeah, you spent $271,000 in one night at a club called One For One. Yeah, yeah. There are pictures of you spraying your foam on people. Yeah, yeah, yeah. Here's the thing: You've got six drink orders on this tab and one of them is complimentary soda water. (Who's the mingy bastard what runs One For One?) This epic bar tab is bought. It ain't earned. Where's the hard crawl through jager-bombs and rusty nails? Where are the gallons of vomit-inducing liquor? There's no effort here. No heart. No story. Only rubbish, Don Johnson. Pure rubbish.
That said, we can still enjoy imagining how this distasteful affair might have unfolded. Early in the evening, we find Johnson jabbering on his global cell as he wends his way through the Mayfair streets in a private car. He has plans to take London by storm. But he knows that things can get weird here for an American inclined to excess. You have to know where naked ostentation is welcome. Which is why Johnson has retained the services of Sophie Raibin, personal lifestyle consultant.
"Sophie!" Johnson bellows into his phone. "Sophie, goddammit! The Champagne King can only go to THE HOTTEST MOST AWESOME place in London!"
"Don, it's my business to know what's best for your lifestyle. That's why you hired me. If you behave like your normal self in a normal club, no matter how hot and awesome, you'll get a clattering. Club One For One is what you're looking for. It's a members only club with a charming nouveau riche vibe. Heaps of young women easily impressed by displays of wealth. Toffs lording about, more easily impressed than the women. Free soda water. They even have an Armand de Brignac Midas bottle."
"What did you say?"
"Sorry? About the soda water?
"No, the Armand de Brignac."
"It's an overpriced brand of champagne that—"
"DON JOHNSON KNOWS WHAT IT IS!"
"Well, then you know what an incredibly lame thing it is for one man to buy, especially the Midas bottle. It doesn't matter how much money you have. It's just tasteless. As your lifestyle consultant, I must advise you to—"
"NO ONE TELLS DON JOHNSON WHAT TO DO!!"
The rest is writ large in the bar tab. Johnson marches into One For One on a mission. He strives for modesty at first and buys a £750 bottle of Dom Perignon. Then the £420 Grey Goose magnum bottle, which is followed quickly by Red Bull and soda water, as if cleansing the palate with a dollop of lime sherbert. Then he dives into the champagne. An Armand de Brignac Methuselah bottle as a warmup. Finally, he gets down to business and orders what he has come for — the Midas bottle. It takes two men to haul the gilded 100-pound bottle to its new master. Johnson uncorks it and foams all over the club, foaming on the young and the old, the men and the women, the willing and unwilling. Foaming everywhere:
And all the while screaming over and over: ''DON MOTHERFUCKING JOHNSON! DON MOTHERFUCKING JOHNSON!" (This part is true, actually.)
The best part is that Don Johnson doesn't even like champagne.
Thank you for your custom. Don't forget to collect your VAT on the way out.