The man knows how to make an entrance.
In April 2012, fireworks split open the night sky over Star Island. Below, topless women wiggled by a pool lit the color of blue Kool-Aid. Veiled belly dancers tossed around fire sticks. Camels munched grass around the two-acre property. All through the white tents draped beside the waterfront mansion, Miami's moneybags elite got down.
The occasion was the 50th-birthday party for Thomas Kramer, a wild-man developer whose Portofino Tower stands out like an exclamation point on the South Beach skyline. The theme was "Arabian Nights." Costumed sheiks and bedouins bumped through the party. High-society spinners DJs Blondie and Mad Linx flooded the air with music. The high-priced revelry was already in overdrive when — suddenly — a rider approached. On a horse.
A white purebred Paso Fino clattered toward the front gate, where a row of bouncers controlled access. In the saddle sat a strikingly slab-like man in a leather vest and white tunic, perfect teeth winking out from a mischievous grin. A headscarf dragged like a banner from the rider's head as the animal galloped past the security guys' screamed protests, then pounded into the yard and up through the house's massive two-story entryway.
Horse and rider wove through the elegant house and out to the pool. Cell-phone cameras flashed, capturing the image of this guy — whoever he was — bolting through a $35 million house on horseback.
But partygoers who already knew it screamed his name. "Anwar! Anwar! Anwar!"
Today, you can find a picture from this stunt on Instagram, along with 174 (and counting) sneak peeks inside the balls-out world of Miami's Anwar Zayden.
The image shows Anwar high in the saddle in Kramer's entryway. The caption reads, in twisted phonics, "I tole you. Last night I bring horse to party. Lady love horse because they like master like Anwar. Is ok I no take advantage. Horse before Lady. Kisses Anwar."
Spend ten minutes wading through the shots posted under username "LegendofAnwar" and you'll feel like you are stuck inside a Robin Leach fever dream featuring a cartoon Fabio with a bottomless bank account. Picture after picture shows Zayden living large all over Miami, awesomeness of superhuman proportions. The account mysteriously popped out of nowhere 13 weeks ago; since, it's brought endless joy to more than 5,200 followers lucky enough to have found it.
There's a photo of Anwar rollerblading down the sidewalk, shirtless except for elbow and wrist pads. "Anwar drink last night to much," the caption reads. "I find secret to overhang. Anwar blade of roller to erase headache and so think forward."
Then there's Zayden standing in the captain's chair of a yacht, flanked by two smiling hot girls, each aiming bikinied rears right at the camera.
"Do I tell you Anwar also Captain of ship?" the caption reads. "I no you think, how Anwar learn to fly, swim, ride horse and bike? Is because I champion. Anwar learn life is for fun. Lady holes keep Anwar warm and heart young."
Next, Anwar's doing a headstand on the bar at haughty South Beach steak house Prime One Twelve. "This is how Anwar drink of day. #LayLikeBat is good after shot."
Then he's posed in a wetsuit, holding a gigantic spear. "Sometime Miami need help to fight killer octopus. Is no fair Anwar only have two hand. Octopus have eight hand. Sometime I tell 4 lady to grab Anwar at same time to simulate octopus."
Who the hell is this guy?
In the flesh, Anwar Zayden, 53, stands in a black Speedo on the deck of his 55-foot yacht as it bombs through choppy surf on a bright and scrubbed Sunday. Visually, he's a cross between a Greek statue and a WWE bodyslammer, 195 pounds poured over a five-foot-11 frame. From toes to nose, veins twist past dips and swells of muscle, everything as tanned as polished boot leather. Long black hair slips off his head to his shoulders like spilled ink.
Today's destination: Key Biscayne. Anwar's 26-year-old Russian girlfriend, Anna Volotchko, and her mother, Elena, both in bikinis, dance together to the techno shaking from the speakers. Fred Machado, a stocky Argentine businessman in a polo and baseball hat who lets Zayden spin around on his private plane in exchange for rides on the boat, is laid out next to a blond model from L.A.
"We masturbate with life," Anwar announces to the group, apropos of nothing, his heavy Spanish accent roughing up the words so his baritone clunks like the English dubbed into kung fu movies.
The horse at Kramer's house? Anwar had just decided at the last minute to show up in style. So he asked his cousin, who runs a ranch, to meet him at Star Island with the horse for his entrance. "It was like they were chanting for someone at a rock show," he remembers fondly.