The Andy Cohen Diaries (12 page)

A: You mean, how many personalities do I have?

T: No … how many dimensions do you see through?

A: Uh …

T: How many dimensions do you see through?

A: A few—I'm very multidimensional.

T: I don't meet many people like you. I really don't.

A: Really?

T: No, I don't. You're boundless. You have
no bounds
.

A: Wow—thank you!

T: It's true.

FRIDAY, NOVEMBER 15, 2013

I talked to Padma about my deal and she said, “Good. It's been hard to talk to you as my boss. I'd rather speak to you as my friend.” I went to the bank to open an account for Most Talkative and this beautiful teller came up and gave Wacha a treat. He was sitting there like a good doggy and all of a sudden that pink tube of lipstick came out between his legs and I said to the teller, “Oh, you're giving him a boner!” I guess that was really not appropriate. Neither she nor her colleagues found it humorous. So you don't say that, I learned.

Went to Waverly Inn for dinner with Liza, Ricki Lake, Bruce, and a friend of Ricki's. Ashley Merriman, from
Top Chef
, is the chef and sent over some truffle mac and cheese. I picked up the check and gave the guy my credit card to pay, and then flashed back to the last four times I picked up the check and got the bill—the Waverly is always really expensive. It was almost six hundred dollars. (The flirty waiter wasn't there. I wonder what happened to him.) Then we hung out at my apartment with Wacha. Liza said Wacha is the dog version of Hugh Grant. I agree. Hugh Grant is very cute, a little withholding, and he looks like he's a bit of a cad, just like Wacha. The dog and I walked Bruce home and stopped for FroYo. It had just closed but there was this couple sitting there in front on the bench and the husband got me high. Who says New Yorkers aren't neighborly?

I went to bed staring at a picture of Marie Osmond that she tweeted of herself with Olivia Newton-John, which raised a lot of questions for me.

SATURDAY, NOVEMBER 16, 2013

I went to the toilet, I mean the dog run, immediately followed by a bath, and then to Sascha Seinfeld's bat mitzvah and I think the rabbi was trying to be a little bit of a comedian because of Jerry. Sascha was amazing. Ali Wentworth and I were cutting up a lot. Great nosh from Barney Greengrass in the lobby after. I ate like a pig. I'm eating as though I'm trying to
put on
weight. Like I'm aggressively trying to add pounds.

I met up with this boy who I have seen around here and there for the last couple years and we have always talked about having a drink. I met him for a coffee fully thinking it would lead to something. Turns out he is twenty-one!! Oy.
Redirect!
Then I went to Sascha's party, which was at the Boom Boom Room. Suffice to say I think this was the first bat mitzvah party held at the Boom Boom Room. I sat between Kelly and Ali and I talked to George Stephanopoulos about
GMA
and how he didn't want to dress in a Halloween costume. They had hired those dancers to hype the kids, and I started to inappropriately flirt with one of them. This is as low as you can get. I nipped that in the bud.

SUNDAY, NOVEMBER 17, 2013

Today I went to Ellen Barkin's mother's funeral and it was a killer. She was loved by a lot of people and I couldn't stop crying.

They are filming
The Normal Heart
on my block, so I decided to bring Wacha to Joe Mantello's trailer. Said hi to Ryan Murphy and saw Taylor Kitsch but was too freaked out to move. Even with a bad blond dye job he is so hot. Clear Eyes, Full Hearts, Dye Job, Still Hot.

I went to Barkin's for shiva and then went and did my show (with Pheadra and the preachers from
Thicker Than Water
). And then afterwards I brought Wacha to the shiva at 1:00 a.m. to pay
his
respects. The vibe of the shiva had definitely changed for the drunker.

MONDAY, NOVEMBER 18, 2013

I was woken by two jackhammers, a tow truck, an electric saw, and what sounded like a pack of wild dogs below my window. Good morning, New York.

I had a dud Fallon pre-interview for my appearance tomorrow. I told them the story about the Gaga perfume but the producer said that Jimmy doesn't like bathroom talk. We'll see.

Britney Spears's people asked me to interview her onstage at her album release event this Thursday in LA, which I am trying to leverage for her coming on my show. They said it will really help me get the booking if I get to know her a little. She wants to feel comfortable and build a rapport, which makes sense. I would miss SJ's opening night if I go. I emailed her and she said it's fine. “Come to the show anytime but don't tell me in advance when you're coming,” and I said, “But I want to be there to support you,” which is a line said at least once by every Housewife in every city. She's not a Housewife, so she ain't gonna hold it against me if I go to LA.

I had dinner with Ralph Fiennes at Barbuto. Saw Jonathan Waxman, who is always really nice. That chicken of his is so damn good. I was trying to explain the show
Vanderpump Rules
to Ralph and it was not translating. I wanted to give up but he really wanted to know what it was all about. It was like trying to fit a circle into a square.

I went home to change for my show and ran into Wacha, who was on his walk. He freaked out when he saw me on the street. He knows I'm his master. I loved it.

Stassi and Jax were on the show. They hate each other. And it was a dead audience. Maybe we do need an applause sign. I can't decide. It seems so conventional.

TUESDAY, NOVEMBER 19, 2013

I did Jimmy's show this afternoon. They were OK with talking about the Gaga thing but wanted to let Jimmy decide if he wanted me to bring the perfume out. Ryan brought the Lady Gaga urine bottle uptown so I could show them how funny—rather than gross—it looked. Jimmy came in to say hi and he loved it, but was worried the audience would say to spray it on him, so I didn't bring it on, but we talked about it. It was great. The Roots played my theme song when I came out, which was a cause for celebration (for me).

Jimmy has the whole “say hi to the guest” thing before the show down pat. He gets you all excited and pumped up. He is in there for a minute and then some girl comes and says, “I have to pull you out.” I'm trying to imitate how he does it with my guests, but I always wind up staying longer. (Leno pulls up a chair and it's a whole conversation. Letterman you don't see at all before you go out.)

After that I went straight to co-host the unveiling of the Bergdorf Goodman Christmas windows. We couldn't find the car outside 30 Rock, of course (#FirstWorldProblems), so we took a cab and then yelled at the car company, which happens constantly and is rarely as satisfying as it should be. I never dress for the weather and it was 30 degrees and I was in a suit with no jacket, so the Bergdorf Creative Director Linda Fargo grabbed a plum Loro Piana scarf from the store and styled me, which I kind of loved. They had these people climbing down the wall outside of Bergdorf's and dropping glitter. So I was wearing a plum lady's scarf and I had glitter all over me. That wasn't gay. I gave the scarf back.

Then I went to my show. Meredith Vieira was really loose and my Hebrew teacher Yitz was the bartender. Turns out his dad circumcised me, and so Yitz busted out that old chestnut: “I was going to bring a wallet that you could rub and it turns into luggage.” The prompter went out right before I had to do a really complicated Mazel and Jackhole and then it came back on like the last second. I don't know what happened, but Dave my normal prompter guy wasn't there. The temporary lady froze the prompter and I was frozen myself for a second. It must have looked crazy on air. I'm still a little shaken from it.

After hemming and hawing all day, I decided to do the Britney thing. We'll see.

WEDNESDAY, NOVEMBER 20, 2013

All the entertainment blogs are talking about what a disgusting pee fetishist I am for making perfume out of Gaga's pee. Yes, I love pee. That's my thing. (It is so not, to be clear.)

I had a conference call with Britney's people. This is the audition to get her on my show, so I did my homework, which consisted of actually trying to find a message in fourteen new Britney Spears songs. I felt very smart when I correctly guessed the song that is about her sons, Jayden James and Sean Preston. I talked to her manager, who said they were on a shoot in the desert, and I wanted to ask him, “How many things can Britney shoot in the desert??” but I refrained. That's Britney's go-to place. (Britney in the desert in a crop top … Britney in the desert with a whip … with a motorcycle … with a guy.) I told them I want it to be positive and ran through everything I was going to talk about. I said she sounds great on the album and how usually her voice gets lost but this time it is front and center. I said I wanted to talk to Britney about the misconception that she's not in control, but how she
is
really in control of Britney, Inc., and it seems like that was the only problem area. He will get back to me tomorrow about that, which means she is maybe
not
actually in control.

I went to the
Hunger Games: Catching Fire
premiere. I thought the first one was so cheap it looked like they shot it in the Clubhouse. This one was the complete opposite. I loved it, especially on the IMAX at the AMC Lincoln Square theater, which is allegedly the biggest movie screen in the country. Patti Smith was sitting behind me. I kept wondering what she was doing there and what the great Patti Smith could possibly think of this movie. I was trying to see it through Patti Smith's eyes. Was there some kind of a poetic allegory playing out for her way beyond the suppression of the Capitol? I left for my show at 10:27, missing the last ten minutes of the movie, and got there at 10:50. Went on at 11. No run-through. No nothing. And it was a great show. There was so much cocaine talk with Gina Gershon. I can't imagine that our sponsor was thrilled but what can you do?

THURSDAY, NOVEMBER 21, 2013—NYC–LOS ANGELES

If someone told me five years ago I would be bitching about getting on a plane to go interview Britney Spears, I would think they were high. But I didn't feel great when I woke up, and I certainly didn't feel like getting on a plane. It is what it is.

I got to Newark in no time and headed to the United lounge, where this woman told me, “Your platinum Amex does not get you into the United lounge and
hasn't for two years
.” So I went and sat in a Coffee Bean and Tea Leaf (I like that United terminal at Newark, FYI) and five minutes later they start paging me, “Andy Cohen, please come to the United lounge immediately for an important message.” I thought, “Oh great, somebody loves NeNe Leakes up there and saw that beeyotch at the counter turn me away.” And here's what I said to myself: “I'm not going.” They paged me three more times and it was embarrassing pretending I wasn't hearing my name.

I stepped on the plane and came face-to-face with a flight attendant who looks just like Baby Jane Hudson (the old lady, Bette Davis version) but with the complete opposite energy. She was insidiously upbeat and in my face trying to help me get situated, “Let's get you
settled
!!! Should we put your magazines
here
??” “Can I help you with your computer??” I couldn't handle her energy. I am not a man who needs help
settling.
After I navigated her away from me, this woman comes in from the United lounge saying, “Even though your card doesn't get you in, we are such fans of yours we wanted to present you with these,” and she hands me a bunch of free passes to the United lounge. Very sweet but her soul sister back at the counter already kinda ruined it for me.

Then we take off and I'm getting
settled
in (without the help of #BabyJaneFlightAttendant) and I pick up my
New York
magazine and turn to the last page, The Approval Matrix, which is my favorite, and on the heels of the love from the flight attendants I am smacked in the face by the bile of the editors of my go-to section, who put a revolting photo of me in the depths of the Lowbrow/Despicable corner and it says: “Bravo extends Andy Cohen's talk show, and the
Real Housewives
circus
rolls on.” My heart sank. Sometimes these things do get under your skin. I was upset! Then I watched a marathon of
Vanderpump Rules
and you know what I thought? “Fuck The Approval Matrix.” I know good TV.

The rest of the flight was a dance between me and #BabyJaneFlightAttendant that involved me responding to her cacophonous service with one-word answers so I could get her out of my face quicker.
So many words!

I got to LA for the Britney thing and for an hour and a half people kept finding me to tell me that they are going to bring me to Britney for an introduction, and I'm like, “OK. No problem. No stress. I'm fine.” I ran into Ryan Seacrest and we gossiped about
Shahs of Sunset
and talked about the idea of making people famous and what happens after, which is one of my favorite conversations, and he was claiming he can't afford a yacht, which I don't believe, and I was hoping he'd tell me I was “killing it” or “crushing it” but instead he said, “Keep up the hustle, buddy. You're doing great.” You always want Ryan Seacrest to be a dick but he isn't.

Then they took me to meet Britney and it was awkward. I walked over to her and her mob of handlers and yelled, “It's Britney, bitch!” and she said, “OMG!” And there was a big cake. I asked if it was her birthday and she said, “Well, the radio stations are celebrating my birthday today but it's in ten days.” And I just thought, “It's so weird to be Britney.” She asked me if I wanted a piece of cake and I said yes. The cake was shaped like her, so she said, “Which part of me do you want?” I said, naturally, “I think a boob.” So she cut me a piece with her boob on it and a heart. And she said, “Here's a boob and a heart,” and I said, “Well, if that doesn't represent Britney Jean, a boob and a heart.”