was fuming.
“What DVD do you want to watch?… Oh, that’s a good one,” Ted assured Johnny. I was beside myself. Ted was not only unperturbed by the interruption, but he’d actually offered Johnny kudos on the DVD selection he’d just made! He suddenly admired Johnny’s taste. All sorts of assumptions ran through my head about how Ted and Johnny would start their own guys’ movie night and discuss the films afterward, Ted anxiously awaiting Johnny’s honest feedback because he “always has the most refreshing perspective on things.”
How could this be happening? How was Johnny getting away with being so brash? The only rationale I could conjure up was that Chelsea loved Johnny, and that Ted was so in love with Chelsea he would accommodate any of her demands, including allowing an employee to live with them. If Chelsea was cool with it, so was Ted. It was a demented love triangle… and someone was going to wind up hurt.
I was having immense trouble coming to terms with this situation. As long as I had known Johnny, he had never wanted to overstep his bounds or inflict his presence on anyone. If anything, there had always been a lot of me telling him, “Don’t be a pussy. Just do it!” Add to all of this the fact that Chelsea was his boss so he now lived with both of their bosses, and I felt totally distressed on Johnny’s behalf. This was not going to end well.
Two full months in and Johnny was still living with Chelsea and Ted. I questioned Johnny every now and again and he was rather dismissive. I had graduated from being a concerned friend to a guy who thought Johnny was just blatantly rude. I kept inquiring about the status of the renovations on his apartment, and he’d just say they were still working on it. He didn’t seem to mind. Wasn’t he paying rent? Didn’t he want to go home? Didn’t he feel uncomfortable in someone else’s house?
Over the next couple of months, Johnny progressed from house guest to full-fledged family member who was factored into every major decision.
“Of course Johnny’s coming with us to St. Barths over Christmas,” Chelsea assured me one morning. “He lives with us, Brad.”
I couldn’t contain my surprise. “He’s staying with you temporarily, Chelsea. You don’t have to bring him on vacation. He’s not your child.”
“He is our child, Brad. And you need to start dealing with it.”
It was at this moment that she felt compelled to offer me the grand perspective on her relationship with Johnny.
“Ted and I are looking at new homes and we’re getting a bedroom for Johnny.”
His own bedroom in a new home?! We’re talking LA real estate. An additional bedroom could easily run you $500,000 to a $1 million extra. Johnny was suddenly worth hundreds of thousands of dollars to them? Chelsea and Ted were delusional. What power did Johnny possess?
He was technically a grown man—and an employee of Ted’s company—and he was being treated as if he were their seven-year-old son. In fact, one weekend Johnny casually mentioned that he was going with Ted and his son, Will, to San Francisco for a 49ers game. What? Johnny was now being included in father-son bonding trips? That was ballsy, but apparently Ted now loved Johnny like one of his own. We might as well have started calling him little Johnny Harbert.
“It was great,” Johnny assured me upon his return from the game. “We stayed at the W Hotel and we all shared a room. Lots of fun.”
Any hopes of me becoming Ted’s programming muse were crushed when Johnny lumbered in to work one morning looking exhausted. “Why do you look like shit?” I asked.
“I was up late watching TV pilots and helping Ted decide which shows should be ordered to series,” Johnny answered.
I lost my mind. Johnny had officially assumed the role I had been dreaming of, and he had far less experience in television. He was only an associate producer, yet he was now guiding Ted’s decision on which new show would follow
“What DVD do you want to watch?… Oh, that’s a good one,” Ted assured Johnny. I was beside myself. Ted was not only unperturbed by the interruption, but he’d actually offered Johnny kudos on the DVD selection he’d just made! He suddenly admired Johnny’s taste. All sorts of assumptions ran through my head about how Ted and Johnny would start their own guys’ movie night and discuss the films afterward, Ted anxiously awaiting Johnny’s honest feedback because he “always has the most refreshing perspective on things.”
How could this be happening? How was Johnny getting away with being so brash? The only rationale I could conjure up was that Chelsea loved Johnny, and that Ted was so in love with Chelsea he would accommodate any of her demands, including allowing an employee to live with them. If Chelsea was cool with it, so was Ted. It was a demented love triangle… and someone was going to wind up hurt.
I was having immense trouble coming to terms with this situation. As long as I had known Johnny, he had never wanted to overstep his bounds or inflict his presence on anyone. If anything, there had always been a lot of me telling him, “Don’t be a pussy. Just do it!” Add to all of this the fact that Chelsea was his boss so he now lived with both of their bosses, and I felt totally distressed on Johnny’s behalf. This was not going to end well.
Two full months in and Johnny was still living with Chelsea and Ted. I questioned Johnny every now and again and he was rather dismissive. I had graduated from being a concerned friend to a guy who thought Johnny was just blatantly rude. I kept inquiring about the status of the renovations on his apartment, and he’d just say they were still working on it. He didn’t seem to mind. Wasn’t he paying rent? Didn’t he want to go home? Didn’t he feel uncomfortable in someone else’s house?
Over the next couple of months, Johnny progressed from house guest to full-fledged family member who was factored into every major decision.
“Of course Johnny’s coming with us to St. Barths over Christmas,” Chelsea assured me one morning. “He lives with us, Brad.”
I couldn’t contain my surprise. “He’s staying with you temporarily, Chelsea. You don’t have to bring him on vacation. He’s not your child.”
“He is our child, Brad. And you need to start dealing with it.”
It was at this moment that she felt compelled to offer me the grand perspective on her relationship with Johnny.
“Ted and I are looking at new homes and we’re getting a bedroom for Johnny.”
His own bedroom in a new home?! We’re talking LA real estate. An additional bedroom could easily run you $500,000 to a $1 million extra. Johnny was suddenly worth hundreds of thousands of dollars to them? Chelsea and Ted were delusional. What power did Johnny possess?
He was technically a grown man—and an employee of Ted’s company—and he was being treated as if he were their seven-year-old son. In fact, one weekend Johnny casually mentioned that he was going with Ted and his son, Will, to San Francisco for a 49ers game. What? Johnny was now being included in father-son bonding trips? That was ballsy, but apparently Ted now loved Johnny like one of his own. We might as well have started calling him little Johnny Harbert.
“It was great,” Johnny assured me upon his return from the game. “We stayed at the W Hotel and we all shared a room. Lots of fun.”
Any hopes of me becoming Ted’s programming muse were crushed when Johnny lumbered in to work one morning looking exhausted. “Why do you look like shit?” I asked.
“I was up late watching TV pilots and helping Ted decide which shows should be ordered to series,” Johnny answered.
I lost my mind. Johnny had officially assumed the role I had been dreaming of, and he had far less experience in television. He was only an associate producer, yet he was now guiding Ted’s decision on which new show would follow
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