Superficial

by Andy Cohen

  On the way to the Trainwreck premiere with Dave I noticed that the non-black press was picking up the story now—Jezebel’s headline, for instance, was “Fucking Andy Cohen Is Working Our Last Nerve.” I fantasized about one day writing a piece called “Fucking Jezebel Is Working My Last Nerve.” I did photographs but no press because I wanted to show off my denim suit I got at Ralph Lauren the other day and not talk about what an asshole I am. Couldn’t concentrate on the movie—left with ten minutes to go and got in two wrong cars before finding Ray. Twitter was alight with RHONY and “Don’t be uncool,” which made me happy to no end until, to put a capper on the day, I got a text from Daryn saying she went to pick up the dog and out of nowhere he attacked her and ripped her shirt. I freaked out, and so did she, albeit quietly. It was bad. I could barely keep my mind on the show. Carole and Heather were on with two male models, one of whom seemed to be celebrating a birthday by making zero sense to anyone. Went on Twitter after the show and people were furious that I didn’t apologize on the air, even though I did online.

  A doctor came to the studio to treat Daryn and she was okay, but she was really shaken up. This was worse than getting publicly flogged. My heart was broken. Was I going to have to get rid of Wacha? How I could ever make things right with him? This was so out of the blue! He loves Daryn. And so do I! Am I going to have to choose between the dog and Daryn? I called Brandon McMillan, the dog trainer, who reminded me Wacha has bad PTSD from being abused and is protecting his property. He said he will work with him when he gets back to New York but that it’s hard to erase his bad memories and triggers of abuse. I got home and Wacha was in a corner looking very traumatized and upset. I ignored him and he came to me outside. Went to bed and my air conditioner was broken. A shitty day, beginning to end.

  WEDNESDAY, JULY 15, 2015

  Woke up at 6:30 a.m., sweaty and gross. Still getting flamed on Twitter. Taped a show with Hoda and Kathie Lee that put me in a good mood and I felt like maybe it was all over. I went shopping for bathroom tiles with Eric Hughes for much of the afternoon, having forgotten that I had told our PR to stop sending me clips and thus oblivious that there was a big wave of press all day online, including a piece on Time.com entitled “Andy Cohen’s Apology to Amandla Stenberg Is Part of a Pattern: The Late Night Host’s Provocative Behavior Can Go Too Far” that listed insane examples of reasons I could get fired, like calling One Direction “twinks” on the Today show and criticizing the kids from P.S. 22’s Oscar performance. It was a friend at Bravo who described the article in detail to me on the phone at the end of the day, and I vowed then not to say anything else publicly on the topic. I called Deirdre on my way to tape the show to say don’t mention any of the articles, because EW writer Tim Stack was in the middle of a profile on me and coming to the Amy Schumer taping and I didn’t want him to realize how damaged I had been by this whole thing and make it a part of the story. He didn’t bring it up and it was a great show, but I was still walking around on eggshells.

  FRIDAY, JULY 17, 2015

  You would think I would’ve been starving myself and working out all week for the EW shoot today, but I didn’t work out once and ate like shit all week, so that’s bad.

  Had a longtime plan with Carole Radziwill that she was going to hang with Wacha today, and she came to get the dog without incident. I worked out at Equinox with Pablo’s trainer, Stanislav, who’s from Ukraine. I just wanted to do something different, but I felt like I was cheating on the Ninj. Not only does the black community hate me, today’s headline in the New York Post was about the suit I proudly wore to the Trainwreck premiere: “Lena Dunham and Andy Cohen Are Disasters in Denim.” It was one of the Top fucking Stories. Also, USA Today did a piece that said I’d destroyed a young black girl. They quoted two people who were completely intolerant of the idea that I didn’t know what cultural appropriation was. Now that I know what it is, I accept it and I understand why people are pissed at the idea of white people stealing from an oppressed culture. I don’t live on a college campus! And now I understand that it’s the definition of white privilege that no one around me is talking about cultural appropriation. Had a long talk with mom and Blouse about it. Blouse was so comforting and was very upset people were calling me racist. But I don’t think I can tell the black community my housekeeper thinks I am not racist. Can you imagine how that would go over? Her heart was as hurt as mine, though, and that went a long way for me.

  The EW photo shoot was in an insane suite at the Palace Hotel with a Jacuzzi on the terrace. I popped and sprayed eight bottles of champagne. Wacha was with me, and I didn’t realize he was standing at my foot “guarding” me, and neither did the stylist who came to take my men’s sock garters off. The story writes itself, sadly; Wacha growled, then went after the stylist, who got nipped on the arm. I was humiliated even though the guy was fine. I now have to view my dog completely differently and watch for signs like a hawk. I ate lots of mesquite BBQ chips (which is the converse of what you’re supposed to do at your cover shoot), turned toward the camera and pretended to pee over Manhattan, and got in the Jacuzzi in boxers and tux shirt with Manhattan behind me and sprayed more champs. I think they got some great photographs. Got a save-the-date for Madonna’s birthday party in the Hamptons August 16, which is ironic given that I have been emailing and speaking with Brian, her new publicist, all week trying to let me interview her for this EW issue. The birthday party is when I am supposed to be on Fire Island, so this is a doozy.

  SATURDAY, JULY 18, 2015

  Mom has announced to her dentist that she is not wearing braces. She told him to find another way to fix her teeth.

  TUESDAY, JULY 21, 2015

  We were supposed to tape 50 Cent and Cara Delevingne at 3:00 p.m. but 50 cancelled an hour before. Then we moved Cara to tomorrow and booked Zac Posen. Then she cancelled. Then we booked the Countess to go on with Zac and Zac cancelled. Then I booked Melissa Gorga to go on with the Countess at the last minute. So, I mean, Jesus. But 50 rescheduled to go on with Dionne Warwick soon and that’s a lot better. Had a great conference call with Sirius and I realized I have to nail down Ingrid Sischy for a radio show.

  WEDNESDAY, JULY 22, 2015

  I had tickets to U2 and invited Liza, Amanda, Bruce, Jackie, Jeanne, Dave, Billy Eichner, Amy, SJP, and Jerry O’Connell and literally no one could go. Had lunch with Bevy and talked about cultural appropriation and white privilege for an hour. The controversy has died down but these are clearly issues that are important, and I need to fully understand. She’s going to do a radio show for Radio Andy. Bruce and Liza came over for rosé on the roof. Bruce told me to invite Jimmy Fallon to U2; I said he’ll probably be backstage or with the band. Got a text from Ingrid replying to mine about her doing a radio show, which said, “Hi Andy I would have just loved it. And loved to have done this with you. Unfortunately at this time it is not something I can commit to. I send my love, Ingrid.” She had seemed interested in June, so what happened? The U2 concert was divine—I wound up taking Bill Curtin. Jimmy came out and that was a big surprise and so, yeah, Jimmy was onstage, not backstage. He wouldn’t have loved my seats anyway. Bono is five foot four and kinda fat and sixty and still the greatest rock-and-roll superstar on stage. Bill says I have to leave Fire Island and go to the Madonna party.

  FRIDAY, JULY 24, 2015—SAG HARBOR

  I was at Marci’s and I read on Twitter that Ingrid Sischy died. Breast cancer. I had no idea. I was doubly saddened by her sweet text two days ago. She was such an interesting person, always a friendly face across a crowded room, always had time for everyone and always had something interesting to say. What a loss. It was a beautiful, clear sunny day with four clouds in the sky and I sat on the beach with Christina McGuinness shooting the shit, drinking a Coors Light, Wacha by my side digging in the sand, feeling very grateful for my life.

  Went to Almond with Joe and his friends. It was gay night, and these are the fashions I saw: white pants, sweaters over the shoulders, Madras tops and bottoms
, and pastels. It looks like the Madonna interview is going to happen next Wednesday on the phone and I can record it for Radio Andy.

  SATURDAY, JULY 25, 2015—SAG HARBOR

  Went to the beach and hung with my gay beach friends, Justin and George. Justin was in rare form; we were walking to get in and he insisted we all walk together because “we look bitchier walking in a group.” And then I headed to Jimmy and Nancy’s for Winnie’s birthday. I talked to Jimmy’s mom, Gloria, most of the time. She’s on the lookout for people ripping off both my and Jimmy’s shows and I love it. She said someone did a shotski the other day on another show and she “had a conniption.”

  SUNDAY, JULY 26, 2015—SAG HARBOR—NYC

  Slept eleven hours last night. Holy shit. I’ve been doing a lot of FaceTiming with my two flirts: #BrazilianAndySamberg and #BritActor, who has come back into the picture, having broken up with his boyfriend.

  Dizzy all day from too much iced coffee. Watched I Am Cait looking for something funny to show on WWHL. Considered showing the moment where she’s playing tennis with her sister and says, “What do we do with the balls?” and realized that was disrespectful and would’ve gotten me fired. About eight forty-five I get a text saying Bobbi Kristina has died and Dionne Warwick is on her way to the show. So we all freaked out—we’d had all these funny games planned for her, like In the Benz with My Psychic Friendz, that we decided we would scrap. Dionne arrived alone, in a powder-blue velour sweat suit and fanny pack; I hugged her in the hallway and she was misty eyed. I thanked her for being there, and she said she had just gotten the news in the car and needed to make some calls. I said, you figure out what you want to do; we are here for you. She decided she would come on the show, that I could talk to her about it but the less the better. I went in and told her how much I love her, how sad I was about the circumstance, and asked if I could get her anything—some Cristal? Anything. She said, could I smoke? I said, you can do anything you want; you’re Dionne Warwick. 50 Cent was the other guest and he’d just been handed a verdict in his case. So the first few minutes were serious, and I told Dionne I always knew she was a legend but tonight I had found out what a pro she was in honoring her commitment to us. Anthony Recker was behind the bar and I swear, what I would do to that guy … Michael Rourke’s dog, Samson, died today so I spent a lot of time hugging Wacha.

  MONDAY, JULY 27, 2015

  Met a porn star on the street from Miami while walking Wacha so that was a good way to start the day. His name is Ramón but I forgot his stage name. He is just starting to become big, he said. Finished my piece about the Grateful Dead for EW, then worked out with the Ninj. I’m fat right now, is the thing. Lunch with John Hill celebrating his one-year anniversary of sobriety. It was festive, in a sober kinda way. Walked home and saw that Anderson’s barber has gone completely mental, with five of the same photos of AC in his chair in the window. He goes here; we get it! I texted Anderson a picture of the montage. Went to WWHL, where I had a two-hour interview about my career with the TV Academy that was kind of exhausting. The show was something else, Meghan King and JoAnna Swisher. Lance Bass was there too. Meghan dyed her hair pink and I told her it looked terrible and then immediately felt bad about it. I keep calling Shereé to try to get her back to the show but my efforts don’t seem to be going anywhere.

  TUESDAY, JULY 28, 2015

  Took the subway (my new favorite transportation) to Bravo, where I met with Shari. The Housewives are all in disarray; we have casting issues in Beverly Hills and Atlanta. Spoke to Dina, who hasn’t signed her release from the Manzo wedding yet. Met Tim Stack at Sirius—he is following me today. Planned our programming schedule and had an excellent creative meeting with Sandra Bernhard. Her show is going to be phenomenal. She is going to “elevate the fucking conversation.” Tyler Perry called in the middle of it all to make sure Bravo would never air Being Bobby Brown again and I said it’s gone forever. He is running interference on the funeral and negotiating between the Browns and the Houstons. Went to meet Anderson at Café Cluny and we regaled Tim with stories. In the middle of it all I get a text from Bethenny saying she doesn’t think she can commit to doing a radio show right now, so that sank my day. She is too busy, but I am fucked. Six weeks before launch. Breathe. Two shows: Billy Eichner and Julie Klausner, and Ramona and Michael Rapaport. He is a Housewives savant, which made all the difference. Then I spent an hour interviewing Ramona for the RHONY special. Came home and Adam was set up on the terrace—it was hot and breezy, but I got a massage from twelve-thirty to two and it was pretty delicious.

  WEDNESDAY, JULY 29, 2015

  Hot as balls. Interviewed Connie Britton for EW, then took the subway to Sirius to talk about Radio Andy options. In play: Julie Klausner, Keith Olbermann, and Mechelle Collins. Interviewed Madonna at one! It actually happened! She said she was wearing a tattered pair of Dolce silk pajama bottoms. She called me sexist because I said she could just stay in one place and not tour. She said I wouldn’t say that to a man. I’m not so sure about that. Then I interviewed Nile Rodgers about Diana Ross, the B-52’s, and Sister Sledge, so I was in heaven. Walked to CAA to meet with Telepictures about hosting a reboot of Love Connection. Hosted a fund raiser for PFLAG, then stopped by Ramona’s book party at Beautique, where TMZ asked me what sport Anderson and I would play if we were athletes. I said I don’t freaking know! Did two shows and on the first one Ed Helms told me during the commercial break that I am doing The Graham Norton Show. The Million Dollar Listing San Francisco guys were on the live one and two of them got in a big fight afterwards. The gay one told Anthony he was “being Jewy” when Anthony said the car was leaving in ten minutes.

  THURSDAY, JULY 30, 2015—NYC—SAG HARBOR

  Keith Olbermann ain’t happening for the radio. No surprise there. Walked dog in the steaming heat. Forgot bags to pick up his poop so I’m walking with a pile of shit on a paper bag in one hand, steaming tea in the other, and my earbuds in, on the phone to Sandy from Sirius trying to figure out WTF we’re doing with this fucking channel and Wacha jerks and I spill the tea all over me. (I didn’t spill the poop, though.) Long meeting with Gordon and Eric going over plans, electric-socket installation, tile selection, more fabrics, some wallpapers, and lighting. Made great decisions and am excited. Went to the doctor for a checkup. Asked to go on PrEP and got my blood tested. He’s never heard of PrEP, so he’s going to research it and get back to me. It seems like the HIV-prevention miracle drug we’ve all been waiting for, so I don’t understand why more people aren’t on it. Drove to the beach in the rain and talked on the phone the whole time. Dinner with Sandy and the Bon Jovis at Sam’s. Talked to JBJ about the U2 concert and Steve Perry having the balls to leave Journey while they were still hot.

  SATURDAY, AUGUST 1, 2015—SAG HARBOR

  Beach all day with Justin and George. Came home and interviewed Taraji Henson by phone, my last job for EW. She and I were doing lines from Dominique Deveraux and Mahogany. Went to Nick and Toni’s, where I was parking in a controversial way (backing up where I shouldn’t, onto Route 27) when this guy in a convertible who I thought was Barry started yelling at me, “No, no, no!” I went into a rage and flew into Nick and Toni’s, where I told the Brodericks that I was going to find the guy and say what the fuck was your problem with how I was parking and who are you to be the judge of my parking? I came in hot. Ten minutes later Scott Greenstein, my new boss at Sirius, comes over and it had been him yelling at me. Oh shit. As fat as I am, I had to have cookie-dough gelato at the end of the meal. I forced myself to go to the gay party to meet Justin and George, and it was a bunch of handsome men but all the good ones were taken and the rest were land mines. Came home and was in bed, spooned with Wacha, by eleven forty-five. His head was against mine. It’s the little things.

  TUESDAY, AUGUST 4, 2015—NYC

  A note for me was delivered to Surfin, unsigned, saying “Your friends Justin and George are the most obnoxious and pretentious people in the world. PS lick my ass with your long tongue.�
�� Except it said “like” instead of “lick.” Bruce came over in the afternoon and said I have to bring it to the beach to show to them. Did a phone interview with a New Yorker reporter who is doing a profile on Bethenny and said to me, “No one who reads the New Yorker even knows what the Real Housewives is about. What is it?” Very snobby, and I did not take kindly to that and set her STRAIGHT.

  THURSDAY, AUGUST 6, 2015

  The EW feature turned out really well, a relief. The cover looks awesome. Went to CVS and bought a bunch of stuff. The cashier handed me my receipt and said if you bring it back next time you get five dollars off. I got home and realized I had bought Gillette Sensor blades, not Mach 3s. And I put them and the receipt at my front door because obviously I should return them, but knowing me I probably won’t. They cost thirty bucks! Had great drinks with Frances, then EW threw me a dinner, which was lovely. It’s an honor to see myself on the cover of that magazine. I feel like I’ve made it. Had a massage on the terrace.

  SATURDAY, AUGUST 8, 2015—SAG HARBOR

  We had a good shoot with Shereé and the Atlanta girls last night, which made me very happy because I have been trying to get her back on the show for the last month. Today I delivered the mean letter to the boys at the beach and it completely traumatized George and made him sick to his stomach but Justin thought it was kind of funny and said he always strives to be the best, so the idea that he was the most obnoxious and pretentious person in the world was something. Went to Surf Lodge for Sean Avery’s clothing event and he yelled at a photographer because he was sick of having his picture taken and I said sweetie, this is why you’re here! Dinner at Sandy’s was gorgeous and delicious. Got a long email from Brandi at the end of night whose subject line was “why do you hate me?”