Tuesday, December 05, 2006
My Week With K
I guess it is time for another
long story. Thanks for being patient as it takes a great deal of time
to make sure not too much is revealed, but at the same time making sure
everyone is still entertained.
This story revolves around an A
list actor. I know we have arguments about who is and who is not A list,
but this actor who is 60+ (very broad here, but think more on the +
side) is A list forever. Many, many movies, some television and awards
and accolades from everywhere.
Litigation usually involves many
documents and in this case both sides had demanded and produced tons of
documents. K and I went through many of the relevant ones together so
there would be no surprises at his deposition or at trial if it came to
that. Having K there to help sift through all the documents was supposed
to be helpful because he was aging and so looking at the documents
again was supposed to refresh his memory and he could also advise me if
something is missing, etc.
For one solid week I had this actor in
the same room with me and thus learned way more than I wanted to about
him, his social life, his vices, his hygiene, and his women. I am not
predisposed to be awestruck by any celebrity, but this actor’s presence
screamed "you will notice me and bow down before me."
The very
first thing I noticed about K was that he enjoyed swearing and did so
frequently. He was extremely fond of swearing loudly while I was on the
phone or while I was trying to get something completed and needed to
concentrate. His words were not limited to the basics, but were part of a
much larger association of words that all flowed together into one
large cuss word. The swearing was usually interjected with how K was
smarter, funnier, better looking or thinner than the offending party.
K
wanted to start each morning by about 7am and he was drinking steadily
by about 7:40 or so. He kept a flask on him and would start each day
with a swig straight from the flask and then just use
it as "cream" for his coffee the remainder of the morning. Generally at
lunch he would wander out of my office, look for the closest person and
order them to the liquor store for a bottle of Midleton Very Rare
whiskey. Never heard of it? Well neither had any of us. It is about $140
a bottle and is not easy to find. Of course K did not offer any money
at all to the poor person assigned this task. I guess he assumed it
would be added to his bill. In any event someone would get it for him
and all afternoon he would give up any pretense of a flask or "cream"
and just drink it straight, although from the coffee cup instead of a
glass. Incidentally when I went to his hotel room one evening in
response to a call which I will discuss shortly he had 4 or 5 empty
Glenfiddich 40 year old bottles lined up on a desk. Each of those is
about $2500 and I hate to think who paid for those.
Beginning
about 2pm or so, K would start using the phone. He was looking for who
he would "get the honor of sleeping with him that night." Well
apparently no matter how much he paid, the honor was not something most
of them wanted to repeat, hence the calling which often lasted several
hours. I should clarify that as far as I know he actually never
exchanged sex for money. In fact, most of the time women wanted to sleep
with him the FIRST time. It was after the first time that he would end
up having to buy them gifts or something else to convince them to join
him again. K did not have a Blackberry or a cellphone. K had a big black
book. A very big black
book with all types of comments and notations next to entries. He
either made very good notes, had a great memory or was full of shit,
because he always had a comment about each person in the book. There
were several hundred names in the book and considering his shaky memory,
handwriting, and drinking it astonishes me to this day to think he
could remember them all. His comments were not the "oh she was a nice
girl who loved the opera." They were all related to the various parts of
their anatomy and how they behaved in bed. K was and is married, but as
he put it the first time I asked how his wife was, he said she is great
but her pxxsy is not.
K’s calls also included those to everyone
he ever knew on any movie no matter where they were located in the
world. He would start telling a story about someone and then forget a
detail and have to call that person to get the detail and then would
call back the original person to finish the story. If someone was
unavailable to take his call, he would harangue them to the extent that
whoever was on the other end of the phone always gave in and did
whatever they could for K. Calls were made to his bookies. He had more
than one because he enjoyed them competing for his business and also if
one did not accept his call immediately, he was on to the next bookie.
Since
K did not live in LA, this week with me was his time of freedom as he
put it. He needed something fresh and new as he was tired of what he was
currently getting. When women would come into the office it was so
embarrassing watching him and listening to him, but most of the women
seemed to enjoy the attention at least the first time. It was not even
that they enjoyed his attention. They loved it and were very flattered
at first. As the week wore on though, everyone grew weary of his
behavior and after 3pm everyday the women all knew to stay out of his
reach as well.
After 7 hours of drinking, he was not generally very quick, but he was still strong. If
he caught you, you were going to spend some time sitting on K’s lap
enjoying his eau de whiskey and his horrific body odor. At the end of
the week, the office needed to be cleaned. He would change clothes
everyday (his clothes and tailoring were impeccable) and that was about
the limit of his hygiene as far as I could tell. K acted inappropriately
almost every second of the day, but because of who he is and was, no
one was going to say anything.
The problem, especially in his
case is that times have changed but K has not. All celebrities to some
extent suffer from this issue. The higher on the list you are, the more
you suffer from it. Celebs just become so accustomed to having their
whims granted and it is constantly reinforced after years and years that
they really know, no other behavior. Combine that with how Hollywood
was when K was in his prime and the problem is just magnified. When K
was in his prime he could do anything, commit any crime short of murder
and probably get away with it. When the roles stop coming, the learned
behaviors do not also stop and so what was tolerated before becomes
almost offensive. K had age on his side and his legacy which really
helped.
While he was in LA, K felt free to call me at anytime of
the night. He continued this habit even after returning home which
resulted in a cell phone change which I have said before is not unusual
for me. On his third night in LA, K called me in a panic at about 1am.
He told me I needed to hurry over because he had a big problem and had
no idea how to fix it. I tried to ask him what was wrong and if it could
wait until the morning, but K would have none of that. He wanted me
over there now and started to swear at me and only stopped when he took a
breath.
As
I got dressed and drove over my imagination was in high gear. Had he
killed the girl he was with that night or did he have the cops there?
What was I going to see when I got there to the hotel? The drive only
took a couple of minutes as I lived very close to this hotel choice
unlike his choice of the previous night. On this particular night he was
staying at the Wilshire Grand. K changed hotels every night depending
on what he was hungry for. On that night he had wanted Korean food so
had stayed there because they have a Korean restaurant in the hotel.
The
previous night he had a craving for snails and Norwegian salmon and
there was only one place to satisfy his craving. The problem was it was
in Malibu. This would not normally be a problem for me. However, K hated
limos and thought they were pretentious. (He of the $2500 bottles of
whiskey) He wanted someone to drive him from the office. He was
dissatisfied with his first driver and so he volunteered me.
For
those of you not familiar with LA and who think Malibu is right next to
everything, you are wrong. It is a really long drive from downtown LA
and made so more by the fact that every hour in LA is rush hour. I spent
many, many hours in the car that day with him and still wake up
sweating thinking of it. He had comments about every person and car he
saw and how they reminded him of so and so. He never wavered and just
kept talking non-stop. The only bright spot was in the afternoon, he
wanted to sit in back and sprawl out because he had been drinking all
day. The next morning, everyone in the office was under instructions to
talk about food and hotels within a 5 mile radius of my place.
When
I arrived at his suite he was wearing only a robe, his hair was wild,
and he had for him a terrified expression on his face which was really
pale. The girl of the night was not to be seen which only raised my
anxiety about what was going on here in the middle of the night..
To be continued...
Wednesday, December 06, 2006
My Week with K -- Part 2
When I arrived at his suite he was
wearing only a robe, his hair was wild, and he had for him a terrified
expression on his face which was really pale. The girl of the night was
not to be seen which only raised my anxiety about what was going on here
in the middle of the night..
I asked what the problem was
and for his answer he opened his robe completely. Not something for the
faint of heart, and definitely not for viewing at 1am. Again, still have
the nightmares.
The problem was that K had taken some type of
Viagra alternative at about 6pm and the reaction he was hoping for was
not quick enough. Therefore at 630pm he had taken another one. Still
nothing. Thinking this alternative was weaker than Viagra, he then
proceeded to take several at once. He was unsure how many, but perhaps 4
or 5 more which were in addition
to the original two. 7 hours after his first pill, he was still good to
go as he proceeded to show me repeatedly as he never tied his robe
again. (Thanks for sharing) He thought a depressant might work, but
having none, he proceeded to quickly drink four or five tumblers of
whiskey. Nothing happened and the matter was becoming more painful.
What
made K call me was the girl’s suggestion that he call a doctor. He had
no intention to call a doctor and instead wanted me to call and pretend I
was suffering from the ailment. So, I called down to the concierge who
wanted to know why I needed a doctor and if he could be of any help. He
then wanted to know my affliction so he could direct me to a doctor who
handled that type of case and was still available. Meanwhile I have K
right next to me and I am inhaling his essence while he keeps asking me
what the concierge and then doctor are saying. After I told the
concierge I overdosed on Viagra he gave me the number of someone who
could help. The number went to an answering service and so I had to
leave a message explaining my problem and give my cell # because K did
not want it coming to his hotel room.
So we waited. And waited.
First standing, and then sitting. He went to check on the girl who I
later saw. She was about mid twenties but no matter of darkness or
makeup could hide the fact she had a hard life and being with K was not
going to make it much smoother. We waited until 2am
still without the problem going down so to speak. Finally the doctor
calls and I have to pretend I am some hopped up Viagra freak who has had
an erection for 8 hours. Meanwhile I again have K constantly asking
what the doctor is saying. I am having trouble hearing and so turn to K
and say the doctor thinks they may have to stick a needle in your dick
and drain the blood. Seriously, the look on his face was priceless. Yes,
those MasterCard commercials talk about priceless, but this one was the
best. I will never see quite that look again in my life, but it really
made the whole week worthwhile.
I let K off the hook and tell him
it is possible but unlikely that a needle will soon be draining the
blood from his member, and that the solution is actually five feet away.
The ice bucket. I tell K to soak his private areas in ice and it should
go down. He asks me to do it for him, and I tell him absolutely no way.
He does make me stay though to make sure the remedy works and to take
him to the doctor if it does not. He grabs a washcloth, fills it with
ice and then proceeds to ice himself down. The first touch brings out a
scream from him and the girl from the next room. She is dressed, takes
one look at the situation and tells K she needs to go. For once, K is
basically quiet and thanks her and she leaves. Within 15 minutes the
swelling is down and K is back to normal.
Normal in this situation means blustery, arrogant and drunk. I tell him I will see him in the morning and leave.
The
next morning I was exhausted, but K was actually looking healthy. It
was amazing to me that he could drink as much as he did everyday and
night and go through what he had the previous night and still look ready
to do it all over again. Have I mentioned his breath? Toothbrush? Not
so much. The breath was either coffee or liquor and when he had neither,
I got a morning hello to end all morning hellos. By this point in the
week I had already discovered this toe curling fact and so came prepared
with coffee.
K begins to launch into a spiel about how he
learned something from what happened the previous night and that he was
going to have to reassess things. I assumed he meant that he would maybe
cut back on the indulgences and just being so over the top. The
situation was almost like a parody. It was something you had to see to
believe. Instead what he said was something like he was going to have to
explore this further.
Originally this day was supposed to be the
last day he spent in the office and so arrangements had been made for
lunch. People wanted to be with him, but most important in LA, be seen
with him. This was a situation K thrived on. As disgusting as he could
be in close quarters or
in private, he was completely the opposite in public. Lunch was at The
Ivy, and if you are not familiar with The Ivy, look back at my old posts
and there is a description of it. The entire party was on the patio and
K was charming and gracious and showed remarkable self-control when it
came to his drinking. I realized later that this was about the only
acting K did anymore and to him it was a performance. Most of the people
in the group had not been with him all week and so this is what their
image of K was. He played it perfectly and you could just see and feel
his presence and knew right then how he had been such a huge star. He
was portraying his own stereotype and it really was enthralling to
watch. He was a star again, if only for a lunch.
The fun started
after lunch on the way back to the office. On the way to lunch he had
acquiesced, and had traveled with the powers to be in a limo. Now,
however he was back in my car, and the drinking began immediately. Prior
to lunch he had ordered me to buy his afternoon bottle of whiskey and
to bring it with me in the car. By the time I sat down in the drivers
seat, it was out of the bag, uncapped and the first swallow had gone
down his throat.
The ride back was surreal. He basically replayed
lunch out loud for me even though I was right there the whole time.
After every sentence was a swallow of whiskey and by the time we got
back to the office it was gone. He was flying now, and since he knew he
was going to be back for one more day just wanted me to return him to
the hotel, AFTER we stopped by the liquor store. In the morning one of
the secretaries kept talking about sushi and tempura (she got a raise)
and K was hooked. Japanese was on the menu that night and what do you
know there was a lovely little place inside his hotel.
I was
ecstatic to drop him off. A whole afternoon of his calls and molesting
of the females in the office was not going to happen. Only one more day,
and a trip to the airport and he was gone. What could go wrong? 2am
phone calls are never good. It is generally when people stagger out of
bars and drunk driving arrests made. I dread these calls because
invariably someone is either in jail or needs a ride or both.
The
noise on the other end of the phone was deafening and K’s voice was
even louder. He always came close to yelling whenever he spoke on the
phone and because it was so loud in his hotel room, this time his voice
was reaching epic proportions. He needed me he said to come right over
because there was an emergency and that since I had done so well last
night, I should be able to help tonight. And on my way over I should
pick up some booze as well. I told K everything would be closed and he
screamed booze was needed and to use my imagination.
This week I
am talking about happened a couple of years ago now and so I would
probably not take this kind of abuse anymore. I say probably, because
you just never know sometimes what you will do. Sometimes you just smile
and play nice and sometimes you just choose to not represent that
person anymore or not even start in the first place. If I could go back
in time to the guy who got the 15 year old pregnant, I would probably
choose not to represent him and when they came back the second time, I
did say no. Anyway.
I ransacked the
bar at my place and gathered up my liquor bottles. Somehow a bottle of
brandy broke in the car and actually the smell was quite pleasant until
it had a chance to soak into everything. When I got to the hotel, there
was no valet around so I had to park my car on the street and then lug
these grocery bags filled with liquor down the street while the smell of
the brandy wafted off of me just like K and his whiskey.
I could hear the party while still IN the elevator. I cannot imagine
anyone on K’s floor being happy about the noise, but he would have just
told everyone off if they came to the door and the management was not
going to call the police. The door was propped open with a shoe and when
I walked in, the temperature was about 20 degrees warmer than the
hallway and the smell of smoke was everywhere. There were about 10
people there. Six aging men in various stages of drunkenness and undress
were there along with four women who were MUCH younger and who looked
as if they might do this type of event for a living.
As I looked
again at the men I recognized two of them immediately. One had been in a
movie with K that I remembered and the other was someone whose presence
floored me. (And really no matter the condition I saw him in, it was
someone I had always wanted to meet. Even more A list than K. That
person has passed away now, but I still remember seeing him there for
the first time) I did not really comprehend what I was seeing because it
was as if I stepped back twenty years before when they were all in
their prime. That night they were definitely not in their prime and not
suitable for film at all. The other men I did not recognize but they
were all people from K’s past who were still in the business (although I
did not know them) or had been.
The "emergency" was simply that
the bartender the hotel had provided had gone home and they needed a
replacement. Yes, that is right. K called me at 2am to have me come over
and be a bartender. (And of course bring the liquor) Further, I was to
be the chauffeur for the six men at the end of the night and whatever of
the men chose to bring one of the young women home with them. Why
should they call a cab when I was there to take them home. The fact that
my car would be lucky to hold four of them at a time was irrelevant.
One man even suggested I take him home in his car and then call a cab
and come back to the hotel and repeat until everyone was home. Luckily
no one really thought that was necessary except for him. I was actually
just shocked that they were concerned about drunk driving.
So
from 2am until about 4am I played bartender and then chauffeur. I also
watched a bunch of old men grope, fondle, and make fools of themselves
around women that were in some cases a third their age and also a third
their size. It turned out that some people did not need a ride home
because they did not have wives to go home to and so they just wanted to
remain
at the party with the booze and the ladies. When I came back from my
last trip at about 430am or so, K, one of his cronies, and the "hero"
were all sitting around in their boxers and t-shirts eating breakfast.
Here were two screen legends eating plates of food with hardly any
civility at all. Spilling it on themselves, swearing, telling stories
and looking nothing like a screen legend while also saying how much the
women had loved them that night. There were just such a range of
emotions that night about what I was seeing and hearing.
I left
shortly thereafter, and when I back to the hotel about 7am, K was there
waiting, looking dapper in a fresh suit, but the rest of him was still
K. We spent all that day together and at the end of the day I gave him a
ride to the airport and made sure he was taken care of by someone from
the airline. I then said goodbye and really never expected to hear from K
again. This lasted about a week.
For the next year or so I was
on K’s calling list about once every two weeks or so. The calls could
come at any time of the day or night depending on where in the world K
was and what he was doing. Now I was part of his stories. I am still on
his call list, but now the calls are probably once every 4 or 5 months. I
think when I changed my cell number one time he took it personal. Also
he has other stories and other calling friends now. But when that phone
rings and I hear him yelling at someone before he even says hello I kind
of think about that week and how it is kind of a microcosm for all
things Hollywood.
Everything
is fake but at the same time everything is real and sometimes you
really just want the illusion to remain and not peek behind the curtain
and see the wizard or in this case a guy with fried egg yolk all over
his clothes while he is smoking a cigar and drinking. That week was my
first up close and intense look at the reality in Hollywood and I have
shared with you other stories that just have reinforced that shattered
image of it that I deal with on a daily basis.
No comments:
Post a Comment