First of all, since Steve is a classy guy, he'd arrive in Vegas in style: fly in and rent a pimp-ass car with which to tool around in during his stay (I'm thinking a little red Corvette). And the first place he'd take that car would be to the Bellagio to check into his suite. He'd toss his keys to the valet, grab his bags, and jauntily retrieve his room key from the front desk, whistling, "Dixieland Delight" all the while. Why Dixieland Delight, you ask? Because it's a damn good song; Alabama is king. Now quit interrupting and don't question Steve's taste in music ever again.
After getting settled in his suite and freshening up, Steve is ready for some hard-core gambling. He goes down to the casino, and stays there for about 6 hours, playing the slots, roulette, blackjack and poker, and winning every time. Now, had this been any other person, the casino workers would have suspected him of using less-than-honest methods while playing; but since this is Steve Perry, they just smile, laugh, clap him on the back, and comp him drinks and a penthouse suite. Casino whores are throwing themselves at him left and right, but he takes his time; he knows they'll still be there later on that night.
After he's done gambling, Steve decides to catch a show, and since he's a bad-ass motherfucker, he doesn't go for the lame Cirque du Soleil or Wayne Newton shows. He catches wind that Aerosmith will be in town, and since "Love in an Elevator" is one of his all time favorite jamz (yes, with a z), he hightails it to enjoy some good, old-fashioned rock and roll. During the performance, Steven Tyler notices him in the audience, and he wastes no time inviting Steve up onstage to finish the concert with them. With Steve contributing, the audience members are immediately overcome by waves upon waves of PIOs, and when the music finally stops, they find themselves sucking on cigarettes, satisfied.
After the show, Aerosmith and Steve Perry imbibe a few alcoholic beverages and smoke some herbal suppliments, and Steve makes his way back to his suite, alone. But he knows he won't be alone by the time he actually gets to his room; on the way he picks up a cocktail waitress and the two giddily step onto the elevator.
When they get to the room, Steve wastes no time in amping up the charm. He pours two drinks, and engages her in flirty conversation, being generous with his compliments. The talking turns to kissing, the kissing turns into full on making out, and pretty soon Steve promises to give it to her "anyway she wants it" (BOOM! She just got Journey-ed!) and, well, the rest is history.
See, Steve Perry doesn't just "do" Vegas; he grips it by the cojones and makes it cater to his every whim. Now do you understand why you couldn't be in the scenerio this time?