One Year of Reality and How It Nearly Killed Me: My Life Behind the Scenes (14 page)

But there was nothing I could do about Monday. I could not get the visas that day no matter how hard I tried. The permission had not come through from China, and neither the visa person nor the Chinese producer could get a hold of anyone in China to get the approval. So I had the good fortune of going to the airport to see the crew off to another location in India while I delivered the unhappy news to Bert. We had our first ever showdown. He was furious. He
got up in my face, telling me, “What am I supposed to tell the network? Why did you screw up [my words, his were more colorful] like this? I can’t believe it.” He was mad as hell. I stood my ground, staring at him, and said, “We did all we could, I could not do anything more.”

He threw a few more choice words my way, telling me that everything was my fault. I was incompetent, he said, and I was ruining everything. I just stood there silently, trying not to have a breakdown. It wasn’t my fault; just my turn. A decision had been made prior to the beginning of the race that didn’t end up panning out. The blame game wouldn’t change that. I felt like this was sort of his moment to unload all the gripes he’d had about me over the years. So I became his punching bag for a moment. It was painful, but I got through it. I did decide in that highly emotional moment that I wouldn’t be doing a second season of the show. Still, I knew that I needed to hang on and finish this one.

We must have been quite a sight, and I noticed quite a few people watching our exchange. For one thing, we were easily the two tallest people in the airport. You couldn’t miss us. And as the argument started, people began to back up, as if anticipating that a fist fight might break out. It was rather surreal
to get a “dress down” in front of a lot of strangers over something I could not control. The crew, who also observed this uncomfortable moment, got on the plane and left.

I went back to the hotel and had a good cry alone. I needed to organize the travel plans for the crew that we were sending home. Of course, when I broke the news to them they wanted to know why they’d been chosen. I had to assure them it was not because they were bad or incompetent, it was just that someone needed to go and they’d been selected. Bert was furious that we were losing them, because he wanted all of the crew members he could get. I wasn’t sure if Terry had spoken to him about it. I felt very much in the middle, but it was too late to do anything. Terry had told me what to do, and we couldn’t go back. It was one more reason for Bert to hate me. At this point, I’m sure he wanted me gone or at least strangled.

In the meantime, my credit cards were at critical mass.

I called my friend, Kelly, who had been paying my bills for me, and I had arranged for her to go the production office to pick up some sort of cash advance check so that she could pay off some of my
credit cards. I called her while she was at the production office filling out an expense report. AN EXPENSE REPORT!!!! I told her that I was the only one who could fill out an expense report because I was the only one who had the receipts as backup and the credit card bills wouldn’t have nearly enough on them to show that I needed more money since the billing cycle closed at the middle of the month. I had spent so much more than what would be reported. I wanted a CASH ADVANCE. I was furious that the accountant had asked her to do that. I told her to go home and forget about it, and that I was going to deal with the production company myself. I called all of my credit card companies (thank God there are international numbers on the backs of the cards). I explained my situation, and one of the companies raised my limit so that I could at least pay my hotel bill and check out when needed. I had no idea what my credit limits were, I never spent a lot of money on the cards, and generally paid them off in full on time, so I didn’t care about hitting a limit, but I had reached the limits on all of them, which scared me. Even though I knew I would get reimbursed, you never know how much you’ll end up getting back. There are producers out there who have reputations for not paying people back, even for legitimate expenses.

I called Terry, furious, and told him that I was coming home. I was broke and had no expectation of getting money soon enough to pay for another hotel, so I was getting on a plane, which our travel agent could presumably cover, and coming home. I could not continue the race in this fashion. He agreed. And besides, China was the last country for which the crew needed visas. Once they had those, they wouldn’t need me anymore on the road.

Tuesday swung round, and I was more than ready to get the crews’ passports. But when I got to the visa shack with my Indian counterpart, no one was there. Now I was officially panicking. However, when we were there on Monday, I had scoped out the area. There was a way to get onto embassy property through what looked to be the servants’ quarters. And while there was a fence that separated the quarters from the actual embassy, there seemed to be a dip in the fence that I could use to climb over into the embassy courtyard. I called Bert to let him know that I was on top of everything…literally. I told him, “I’m at the servant’s quarters, and I’m going to jump the fence and knock on the door and see what happens.” As I hung up I heard him saying, “Don’t do it! Don’t jump over the fence.” I guess he figured it was just as crazy as I did. But the race needed to go on.

Luckily, as I approached the fence, our visa person finally made it to the visa office. Everything had been approved. It was just going to take a bit of time to get the visas onto the passports, but we would have them. I was incredibly relieved. I went back to the hotel to call some of the crew to let them know that I’d soon have their passports. They could either come see me later in the day or get the passports at the airport when they went on to Thailand. Because of the whole visa situation, Monday had to be a day off. The crew members were so happy to have the day off that they all thanked me. Now I hadn’t given them anything, it was purely a matter of circumstance, but I appreciated the sentiment. The crews were working long hours, and it took a lot out of them to carry all that equipment as well as their own belongings. A day off wouldn’t kill the race.

Some crew members were traveling ahead of the contestant crews and that night I had to meet them at the airport to help them with excess baggage payments. This time, I had no ability to get out money with credit cards, just my ATM card. Alison and I hooked up and went to an ATM on the way to the airport. Now you think of ATMs as something you can easily get to since there are so many and you can access one off the street or in a 7/11 or Walgreens. In India, we went into a bulletproof ATM outside of
a McDonalds with a guard standing watch. It didn’t exactly instill confidence. Well, the dollar was pretty strong in India, and the maximum amount I could take out was $300 U.S. dollars. It took me five times to put in my card and withdraw money to get the $300. It was a lot of bills and I didn’t have a purse big enough to hold it, so I stuffed the money into my bra, since no one would look there if I was robbed. Alison took out money as well, since she hadn’t tapped all her resources yet. (I can’t imagine how much she must have spent on the road.) So we had the cash and helped the crews get on the plane. It was funny to be able to whip money out of my bra and hand it to the airline person. I also realized that it was the best place for carrying all my important documents. Ever since, I have always carried my passport and money in my bra. I’m big enough to keep the money from moving around, and if my purse was stolen, at least I’d have identification and some cash.

I met most of the crews at the airport the next morning and gave them their passports. And once again, they needed help checking in to the New Delhi hotel, getting settled, and getting fed. The contestants were haggard and tired, but they greeted me with smiles. Soon, all the crews and the producers would be on the plane to Thailand, and I would be on a plane back to the States. I couldn’t
wait. And I didn’t say anything to Bert about the fact that I was leaving. I figured Terry would tell him, or he’d figure it out on his own. I was too tired for that discussion.

Bert was one of the first ones on the plane. I had to help the rest of the crew pay for their flights since credit cards were not always an acceptable form of payment. I passed out the last of my cash from the previous night and got more from my ATM card to make sure I had enough. Finally, I had everyone on the plane except for two people. They were part of the second unit crew. They were finishing up the rest of the India shots that had been requested by the producer, but they were running late. I could not get a hold of them by phone, but we heard from the driver that they were on their way. Well, the plane was getting ready to take off, and I knew they needed to be on it, because I had no idea which plane they’d be on next. The other hitch was that once a plane was loaded, the ticket counter changed to another airline. It was driving me crazy. So I kept the ticket person engaged. I started to do a “stupid American” comedy routine to try to keep them laughing. No one else was boarding, and there were only two seats left in first class. So I went about purchasing the tickets for the guys, taking my time while paying
for them, doing anything I could to delay the plane from taking off.

Finally the last two crew members showed up, and I gave them their tickets and paid for their excess baggage. They whipped through customs and got onto the plane in the nick of time. It took a moment for me to absorb the fact that everyone was gone except for me, and that I would soon be home.

A few minutes later, someone came out of customs.

There was this old man slowly walking out, coming my way. I didn’t know him, and yet he was clearly gunning for me. I froze, wondering what had happened in customs that needed to be fixed. In the ten or fifteen seconds it took this guy to reach me, I had already run at least ten scenarios in my head as to what was about to happen. Someone was sick, equipment was broken, a contestant was ill, the plane was being delayed, and Bert was wondering where I was… But the guy simply handed me a note, without smiling or otherwise acknowledging me, and then walked away. I kept the note for about two years because it’s the one thing that could always set me off into roaring laughter. It read something like this:
“Bert is upset that you have people in first class. Try not to let that happen again.”

It was signed by a field producer. It made me laugh, it made me mad, it made me say, “That’s it! ENOUGH!”

I went back to the hotel. I knew I had a few hours before they would land and get situated. I called Terry in the States and told him about the note and why I’d bought first class seats for those crew members. I “killed it” to get everyone on the plane and told him everything that had happened. I did all this work, and all I got was a lousy note. “If you have to fire me,” I said. “I’ll understand.” Of course he wasn’t going to fire me. But I did tell him that I planned on yelling at Bert as soon as he called me. I knew him like I know the back of my hand, and I had no doubt that I would be getting that call. Which, of course, I did. And Bert didn’t get five words out before I went on the defensive. “I’ve worked for you for three years, and you don’t think I know the rule about first class?” I asked him. “Don’t you think I’d do whatever it took to make things work and keep them going? Don’t you think that I would have put them in coach if I had a choice? Don’t you know by now that I do everything I can to make sure you’re happy, and that I’m not trying to irritate you? Well,
don’t you?” That was pretty much my rant and my chance to unload a bit after all the years of hard work I had put in for him.

We didn’t speak again until right before I left the show. I heard from people on location that he was asking them if I was all right, if I was having any problems. I guess the fact that I had finally chosen to stand up to him had made an impact. Good. I sent the producers travel information on the contestants and told them that I was coming home and wouldn’t be able to give them any information until I was back in the States. I’m not sure that anyone knew I was leaving. I had told Alison, but I didn’t think to tell anyone else in terms of the producers. So I don’t know if they were shocked or not, but there was nothing I could do. I was broke.

I caught a break.

I left the next day. I found out I could get into business class, so I did. The trip had a couple of legs, but I didn’t care, I just wanted to get home. When I hit the second leg, the longest part of the trip, I was tired and cranky, but at least I was in business class. And I love having the window seat. I get nauseous on flights, so having something to lean on, like the side of the plane, always made me feel better. Even though
I’m tall, I didn’t care about leg room as much as I did having a window and an easily accessible barf bag. I didn’t have any Dramamine, and I couldn’t find any in the airports I was passing through, so I just had to grin and bear it.

I thought I’d get some rest once I got home. I was wrong.

CHAPTER 7

TRIUMPHANT RETURN –
WIMPY ENDING

T
here are two things that I’ve heard about what it’s like to return to the States after traveling internationally. First, you gain such a great appreciation for the United States and the freedoms we enjoy that you want to kiss the ground. Second, the jet lag is pretty bad.

When I would have crews come back from overseas on
Wild Things
, I tried not to call them for at least a day to give them time to adjust and get some rest before coming into the office and wrapping up their work. Most of the time that didn’t happen, and I would have to get the crews to come in and
download as soon as their plane landed. But if I could get away with giving them a rest, I would. I was hoping for the same kind of break.

I didn’t know what jet lag felt like. I was pretty okay on the flight back to the States. I was tired, and my stomach was a bit off kilter, but I figured it was just because I’d been eating plane food for the last fifteen hours. I was able to relax and sleep through the five movies on the flight.

While I didn’t kiss the ground when I returned, I did kiss my pillow. I went to sleep as soon as I got home that Friday afternoon. But I did have to get up the next day, because Kelly had organized a trip to the hair salon for me. I had been feeling pretty dirty, and my hair was definitely showing the wear and tear of the road, particularly since I hadn’t taken any hair products with me. I slept up until the time I had to leave for the salon. My stomach was still doing flips, and I had something to eat to calm it down.