Superficial

by Andy Cohen

  THURSDAY, JANUARY 14, 2016—NYC—SAN FRANCISCO

  Landed in San Francisco and walked around town with Bruce and shopped. We had dinner at the Slanted Door with Lynn. I took Bruce to Powerhouse, where the aesthetic was hairy and a little overweight and the clothing was light. There was some kind of a wet-underwear party where people strip down to their underwear and are sprayed with a water bottle. Two of the contestants were trans. It was all very 2016, but we left before the winner was announced and fell into a Bowie party at the Cat Club, which was phenomenal.

  FRIDAY, JANUARY 15, 2016—SAN FRANCISCO

  We added a second show in Oakland for Sunday that’s not sold out, so I did morning TV in Oakland early to promote it and when I got to KTVU this lady wanted to tell me she knew exactly who I am even though a lot of people don’t. Then she showed me a video she made of her going around the newsroom asking people if they know who I am. It was a lot of people saying, “I don’t know who Andy Cohen is.” So that made me feel really happy about schlepping to KTVU at the crack of dawn. Then when I was ready to leave the driver had taken off to pee, so I was standing in front of the station for fifteen minutes like a ninny while the few people who had figured out who I am came out to take selfies with me. Visited Uncle Dick and Aunt Kay’s house, where I have never been (the Oakland Hills are like the Hollywood Hills but with bridge views instead of stars), and then to the Mission with Bruce, where we walked around, and to the Castro, where I bought a gold sequined sweat jacket. Visited with Anderson when he got into town and brought the sweat jacket up to his room to horrify him. Mission accomplished! He doesn’t know where I’m going to wear it and neither do I, but when I do it will be the right place. It may take years, by the way. Dave Chappelle is in town performing and is texting AC that we should come meet him. He keeps showing up in cities we are in and doesn’t get how we could possibly be playing similar venues or what the fuck we do onstage. (We don’t either.) Had a two-hour massage with Nate that first made me exhausted, then really woke me up. San Francisco is always my crowd, and they were so raucous that one man had to be taken out by security. He was screaming Anderson’s name, so I think he was an Anderson fan, but Anderson disagrees. He thinks he was yelling at Anderson because he could help get security off him. I had high school buddies backstage (Sam, Mark, and JJ), plus Lynn and Brian O’Keefe, Daniel Descalso from the Colorado Rockies, and Uncle Dick with Aunt Kay and Amy. AC had Sanjay Gupta’s brother. Not a lot of wigs or hairpieces at the meet and greet, but Patrice Wessel was there and that was a sweet reunion twenty years after Harry Smith “did her job” on CBS This Morning. A lady in the VIP line had the best Housewives tag line: “I may look crazy, BUT I AM.” And she did look crazy. Went to a hip-hop party at Oasis. Oddly, there were only about five black people, but it was fun anyway.

  SATURDAY, JANUARY 16, 2016—SAN FRANCISCO—SEATTLE

  Breakfast with Bruce, Bryan, and AC at the Four Seasons, then we hopped on Virgin America to Seattle—we did radio on the plane, it was really efficient. The Four Seasons in Seattle is brand new and beautiful. I love the people in Seattle; they are smart, naturally beautiful, and earthy. I think of all the cities we’ve been to, Seattle’s Q and A at tonight’s show (and maybe D.C.’s) was the best, with thoughtful questions about our families and backgrounds. AC was on fire onstage; he was shading me and reading me like an Atlanta Housewife. In the VIP line, I complimented one couple and the woman said, “We’re not a couple; this is my dad.” Meanwhile a lady was trying to pimp her son off on us, but I didn’t think he was gay. She kept saying, “Look how big his bulge is! Meet us for drinks!” Yikes. We went out to the Cuff Complex and I guess the sight of the two of us walking into a random gay bar is enough to cause a bit of a scene. We were standing in a corner and Anderson said, “Do you realize the entire bar is looking at us?” and I said, “I’m trying not to notice.” I flirted with this big ginger lumberjack-y guy, exactly the type you probably should flirt with when in Seattle.

  SUNDAY, JANUARY 17, 2016—SEATTLE—OAKLAND

  We were exhausted on our morning flight back to Oakland and beginning to regret booking a matinee, but our Asian-Kris-Jenner flight attendant on the plane was calming, and also made me realize that Kris Jenner looks like a flight attendant herself, and has in all her iterations. (Wait, was she actually a flight attendant?) Lunch with Lynn and Anderson a few blocks from the theater, so the place was full of people on their way to see us, which was sweet and awkward. The Paramount Theatre is beautiful and old, as was the crowd! At the meet and greet there was a seventy-three-year-old lady in a wheelchair who wore a side pony for me, her first in her life, she said. A blind man with a seeing-eye dog was at the end of the line wanting to interview us about the tour for the Huffington Post, and how do you say no to a blind man even though you literally can’t speak anymore? I started tweeting during the interview because I realized Real Housewives of Potomac was about to start on the east coast, and I thought Anderson was going to yell at me for disrespecting a blind man but we got in the car and immediately jumped on the radio (why waste a car ride back to the hotel when we can make a show out of it?!) and AC said what I did with the blind man was fine. Went back to the Four Seasons, took a long bath, FaceTimed with #BAS, and watched Downton Abbey over room service while it poured down rain outside. Went to bed at eleven-thirty. It was a pretty heavenly chill-out, as they go.

  MONDAY, JANUARY 18, 2016—OAKLAND—NYC

  Fell asleep during the flight home and had a dream that Tamron Hall got sloppy drunk at my house and she and I made out on my bed. Woke up and there was a man snoring like a walrus across from me. Couldn’t wait to see the dog. Went home, changed, and went to the Clubhouse where I had two shows.

  WEDNESDAY, JANUARY 20, 2016

  Worked out with the Ninj, and I haven’t weighed myself in many months—I mean, I can’t even remember the last time I weighed myself—but I’ve been on a tear at work about how fat my face looks. Out of nowhere today I decided to do it, and lo and behold, I was 172.1! I am good with that! In related news, I had ice cream for dessert after lunch to celebrate. Out of nowhere, Sean Hayes called this afternoon to see if I’d be interested in hosting reunions of casts from James Burrows shows (like Taxi) at the tribute he’s producing for NBC in LA on Sunday. I would be thrilled, was the answer. I said I’d heard there was a Friends reunion happening too, and could I do that one? He said Jane Lynch was doing Friends but that I would be doing Will and Grace. I said, That’s great; can you get me Cheers too? He said he would do his best. Went to see Natalie Joy Johnson perform at Joe’s Pub, as directed and written by John Hill, who also plays the kitar onstage, and it was brilliant. Who knew John could play the kitar? Who knew what a kitar was? Went to WWHL and we scrambled to move our Sunday show to tape tomorrow because not only might I have to be in LA Sunday, there’s also gonna be a massive snowstorm. It’s all a juggling act. Dermot Mulroney and Jenna Fisher were the guests and he was manspreading like crazy, so every time I turned to him my eyes went to his crotch, which was embarrassing. Had a Tinder date at Anfora with a hot pianist who lives in Harlem, though it’s unclear why I’m still going on Tinder dates when I am feeling so much affection for #BAS. He’s not here, is probably the answer.

  THURSDAY, JANUARY 21, 2016

  Got a haircut from Tonee and Wacha ate all the hair off the floor.

  The pianist sent me a video of him playing and he’s like a hot, butch Liberace without the diamonds. I didn’t tell him that because I thought he might be offended. Taped Marlon Wayans and Gizelle. Haven’t been feeling amazing, so I cancelled my workout and ate pizza—ever since I weighed myself I’m bingeing. Had dinner with John Hill and showed him my apartment. I don’t want to gloat or boast about my dream apartment, but it’s hard not to want to show it off. Sherman came to pick up Wacha and the dog was so excited to see him; he looked at me like “Bye; I have no feelings about walking away to be with the guy I really want to be with, and that guy is not you.” I felt like I had be
en punched in the gut but I talked it through with Richie in the elevator (who, not for nothing, was eating a carton full of the smelliest shrimp lo mein I’ve ever encountered) and we decided it’s better Wacha has a second daddy who he loves instead of the alternative.

  FRIDAY, JANUARY 22, 2016—NYC—LOS ANGELES

  Early flight to LA for the Jim Burrows tribute—the final verdict is that I am reuniting Will and Grace (sans Debra Messing), Frasier (sans Kelsey Grammer), and Taxi and Jane Lynch is doing Friends, Mike and Molly, and Cheers. I wanted Cheers, but how can you complain with that lineup? Friends is the big-ticket reunion of the night so it’s all gravy from there. Went straight to the Palm for a lobster bisque and salmon Caesar and, let’s be real, to see Bruce. He had Sherry Lansing, Ron Howard, Larry King, and Bellamy Young in there. Went back to the Tower, then took an Uber to Shed Media in Burbank, where we storyboarded the first seven episodes of RHONY. The Uber guy of course had no clue how to get around LA and was just blindly led by the GPS which took us on Nichols Canyon to Burbank, thus completely blowing his mind. It was a challenging drive. Took a sunset pic of Sunset Boulevard, which I Instagrammed and then got a flurry of texts from all the people in LA who I don’t want to see, asking if I’m in LA, but the happy result was hearing from John Mayer, who recognized the view and texted that he’s in the room above me at the hotel. Ran over to Sandy’s to see Stacey Winkler, then had dinner with Bruce and Bryan at the Tower, where we discussed the depressing election, the boycott of the Oscars by the black community, and our trip to Miami for Bruce’s big birthday at the end of March.

  SATURDAY, JANUARY 23, 2016—LOS ANGELES

  Woke up to the news that Michael Bloomberg may be running for president, which got me excited until I realized it might fuck up Hillary’s chances instead of Trump’s. It’s a snowstorm shitshow in New York, and all anyone here can say is, “Aren’t you glad you’re here and not in the snow?” Then they get a monologue from me about not liking to miss a snowstorm and enjoying being hunkered down with my dog in my apartment and how quiet and romantic the city gets, how Wacha would be so happy running around in the snow on his terrace and I’d be enjoying my gold Christmas tree, which I still haven’t taken down. I lose them when I mention the Christmas tree. Liza and Bruce have been terrified about my flight getting cancelled on Monday but I can’t put in the energy. It’ll be fine.

  Rehearsed for tomorrow’s Jim Burrows tribute. The producers reminded me that this was all fun and that I wasn’t up there to get dish or scandal from the reunions; they’re scared that I’m going to treat the Taxi cast like the Housewives. On the way out I saw a pink Corvette and realized it was Angelyne (the license plate and blond wig were important clues) and ran over to ask her for a photo. She said I could have one if I joined her fan club and bought a T-shirt or a bumper sticker. I said of course and she grabbed her fan and opened her trunk. She was out of bumper stickers, and then I realized she probably never had any because the T-shirts were all forty to sixty bucks. I got one for Graciela and then Angelyne told her friend exactly where to stand to take the picture, said to take only one, positioned me and told me how to hold her leg up, put the fan over her face, approved the picture, and sped off. I posted it and got a flood of people saying that it looked like her balls were hanging out. I thought she was a natural woman? Meanwhile, if those are balls I don’t care because she was kind of mean and she approved the picture. Kelly texted immediately wanting to know what she looked like in person. Like an old, mean drag queen, I said.

  Dinner at Tortilla Republic with Bruce. Someone sent over free drinks, but there’s no such thing as a free drink because then it’s a whole conversation with the person who sent over the drinks.

  SUNDAY, JANUARY 24, 2016—LOS ANGELES

  I was asked to come back to the Hollywood Palladium and rehearse some more for the Burrows thing, which gave me a complex that I’d done horribly at rehearsal yesterday. But I didn’t care, because being in the room with this level of talent talking about shows that I love is an opportunity for me to prove that I am more than a shit-stirring Housewives producer. Before I could do that, though, I had to run to Burbank to be interviewed for a RHOC and Vanderpump Rules uncensored special because I am a shit-stirring Housewives producer. Went back to rehearse and I was as good (meaning as bad?) as the day before. Napped and headed back to the Palladium where I saw Jim Parsons, Kaley Cuoco, Melissa McCarthy, the cast of Cheers (Shelley Long!), and Charlie Sheen. Just as I was looking around the room wondering what the hell I was doing there, Michael Patrick King walked up and asked me to remind him what show Jimmy directed me in. The stars were all seated at tables with their castmates, and I was alone with Bill Nye the Science Guy, his date, and seven empty chairs. Jane Lynch did the first reunion, Cheers; I was too busy staring at Shelley Long’s face to really notice but it seemed kind of actor-y and technical.

  Then I was up for Will and Grace and it went off well. Right before we went on I had a recollection of Megan Mullally not liking to do the Karen Walker voice, so I whispered to Sean, “Is it a bad idea that I was going to have her do it?” and he said, “Yeah, she hates that.” So that was that. When the cast came up, I noticed that Eric McCormack seemed to want to sit in the seat next to me and Megan Mullally was looking at it as though, as the only lady in the group, it would be her natural seat. He “won out,” and I had a thousand flashbacks of Real Housewives jockeying for the “A position.” The interview was fine, and most important, I didn’t betray my nerves when I was introduced and walked to the mic while I heard five hundred minds questioning, “What the fuck is he doing here?” When it was over I walked down the stairs of the stage and said hi to Lisa Kudrow and was trying not to look to her right, where Aniston was, because I don’t really know her and I don’t know what my drama was but I didn’t want to make her think that I thought I was cool, or that she should know who I am, or that she should have to acknowledge me. Clearly I had some sort of major Jennifer Aniston–itis where I was getting premature erectile dysfunction even though my pants weren’t coming down. And as I walked away I turned towards her slightly and saw that she was standing to be gracious and say hello to me, but I was already walking away and gave her a very awkward half-wave and she gave me a classic Aniston befuddled look, which she should trademark. I ran into the arms of Bill Nye, who gave me props before he went up to reunite the Big Bang Theory cast.

  Next for me was Taxi, and they said in my ear that the cast is kind of old so I might have my hands full, but they were perfect and I got to sit next to my angel, Marilu Henner. When I got back to my seat a producer came and grabbed me and asked me to come backstage, where they asked me if I would be comfortable doing the Friends reunion. I felt like a JV quarterback being put into the game before a huge play! In over ten years of reunions for me, this was the mother lode. (Yeah yeah yeah, I know Matthew Perry wasn’t there and I know I never really loved Friends but I can smell an overhyped moment with both nostrils clogged.) YES! I said. Then I immediately started probing why Jane Lynch suddenly wasn’t doing it. They wouldn’t tell me, but what I gathered after fishing around and even talking to Jane backstage (“Thanks for doing this, I really appreciate it; I don’t think it’s my thing”) is that she didn’t think it was her thing. Well, that worked perfectly for me, because it happens to be exactly my thing! I reunite! It’s what I do!

  Before I got too excited, I had to get through Frasier, which was fine except that, well, Kelsey Grammer wasn’t there. When it was done I had a nice chat with Jim Parsons and his husband about renovations and went backstage to get ready for Friends and was told not to mention Marcel the Monkey and something else; I can’t remember what now because it was so arbitrary. I had forgotten about Marcel the Monkey anyway, but now I was fascinated to know why he was off limits! Of the cast, I had just met and had a lovely conversation with Schwimmer at the premiere of the O. J. movie, I know Kudrow, I had danced around Aniston but know Justin Theroux, and I don’t know Cox or LeBlanc (who has passed
on coming on WWHL a few times because it “wasn’t a fit,” which is always scary). As I was running through questions in video village, Sean Hayes came back panicked because the Rembrandts were setting up to play the Friends theme song and he had the distinct impression that the Friends weren’t thrilled about the performance, which was news to them. I went out and introduced the band, then ran back to watch what were the funniest facial reactions since the last Atlanta reunion. The Friends looked like they were in agony as the ubiquitous earworm they probably were sick to hell of came to life once again. They came onstage for the interview and I immediately wondered who was going to sit next to me. Kudrow went right for the farthest seat and Schwimmer followed; they each successively seemed to be lunging for the middle of the couch, away from me, the substitute teacher. LeBlanc and Aniston wound up fighting for the seat second from me, with Aniston even sitting on his lap for a second before succumbing to being my neighbor.

  I let the moment of seeing them all sitting together really play out and kept saying what a big deal it was. And in the back of my mind I thought, “Oh, man, how great would it be to get a selfie with these guys when the interview is over?” Then I thought, “You cannot get a selfie with them, you have to be cool.” Two items on the question cards didn’t go great: I asked Aniston about the episode where Rachel gets drunk and marries Ross, to which she replied, “What about it?” and I had to say, “Tell me about it, did you like it?” Awkward. And the question to Courteney Cox about the rumor (that was news to me) that they had signed a contract saying they wouldn’t sleep with each other for the run of the show went over like a lead balloon, and I felt the entire audience collectively think “Once a Housewives guy, always a Housewives guy.” It was over in a flash. I’m not sure why I’d had such Aniston-panic, because she was lovely and I felt like it went as well as it could have. The producers felt like I’d done them a favor by stepping in, and as an added bonus for me I got to close the show standing in the middle of the entire group of stars with Jim Burrows to my right and Shelley Long(!) to my left. I thanked Mr. Burrows during the commercial break for letting me take part in the evening and asked if it was the most surreal night of his life. He said it was beyond; he was floating. So was I.