October 25th, 2009
What kind of
idiot family keeps a homemade helium aircraft tied up in their backyard? The Heene Family, apparently. And that is the last time I ever babysit for them.
I originally met the Heenes when they did a Wife Swap episode with me and Connie Chung, who was posing as my wife so she could get on the show and jump-start her career (but have you ever tried to jump-start a car with no battery?). Connie got shipped off to live with the Heenes for a week while Mayumi came to stay with me in LA. Luckily I live a perfect life with friends, sunshine, entertainment and happiness, so there was literally nothing for Mayumi to do around the house except clean the pool (which frankly as an amateur scientist’s wife she did a pretty dismal job, completely mixing the chlorine wrong, burning her hands … then she had the audacity to ask for Neosporin – like I’m a fricking Walgreens?!?)
Several weeks later I got a call from my PR agency saying that Mayumi missed spending time with me and asked if I could come out to visit. Well, luckily I a few days off while Alejandra Guzman was getting her butt plumped up and hadn’t yet suffered the assteraffects (get it? HILARIOUS!), so I packed up my Rafi CD’s, hopped in my Beetle and headed to Colorado.
Well no sooner and Mr and Mrs Heene left for dinner (they didn’t leave a #, by the way – total faux pas in parenting land – should have been a red flag, but you know I like to believe the best in people so I even overlooked their forgetting to leave some spending money in case the kids needed something like a new CD or a nice scarf or a student loan payment) then that little
brat gift from god- the one with ADHDHAD got in a right fight with the garden gnome (you can’t make this shit up!) and huffed off to the garage.
Next thing you know The View is being interrupted and I’m watching Brat-Child Heene fly over Colorado in some friggin’ JiffyPop nightmare. Of course the first thing I thought of was calling the local news, you know, cuz they’re the ones with the best cameras; second I called my PR agent, and third I did the responsible thing and called 9-1-1. Stop, Drop and Roll, right? Right!
Of course everyone came running immediately and interviewed the NEIGHBORS instead of me (I was PISSED!!!) so what else could I do when I heard that rattle and roll in the garage attic but tell that little
twerp precious miracle to stay put and maybe he’d get a show out of this whole ordeal. Too young to commit to a contract, but my agent spent 10 minutes on the phone and got him attached to the project with Susan Sarandon to direct. I could almost smell the money.
Turns out it wasn’t money I was smelling, but despair – something I’ve been confusing for money all to often in the last few months. Dear readers, I had been set up yet again. The Heenes were not at dinner. They didn’t forget to leave me petty cash. They didn’t forget to leave the number where they were dining. They were in makeup trailers in the alley gearing up for a big family docudrama. And they had the nerve to send me an “appearance fee” invoice not two days later.
And that, ladies and gentlemen, is why I left immediately to head back to LA – where everything doesn’t end up with me being starring as a background extra pawn in yet another goddamned Hollywoodland con game.
If you can’t trust families from Colorado, who the hell can you trust?