And that particular night, Chaudhury waved those credit cards to procure everything Scores had to offer: bottles of Dom Pérignon and Krug, a group of some fifteen strippers, and lap dances to rival Salome’s. One of the dancers recalls Chaudhury behaving as if he owned the place. He kept shouting, “I’m the king of the world!” Then he was demanding to know “What’s the biggest tip you ever got?” As the night drew to a close, he began lavishing the staff with gratuities. He tipped the strippers, the bartender, the maître d’, the wine steward, the waiter, and the stripper whose task it was to patrol the club dispensing back rubs. Then the manager presented Chaudhury with his final bill for the evening. The total cost of five hours of pleasure in the club’s exclusive President’s Club was $129,626.
No one had assembled a bigger tab in Scores’s rich history—not George Clooney on his birthday last May, not Chuck Norris at the bachelor party thrown before his second marriage, not even Madonna, a regular in the nineties who’s been somewhat less in evidence since embracing Kabbalah. One might have expected Chaudhury to balk a little at such a staggering sum—perhaps even to query the tally of lap dances. But, according to Hanover, Scores employees say he signed his credit-card receipts, kissed the girls good-night, and strolled out onto 60th Street a happy man.