"Shady Bizzness: " Life as Eminem's Bodyguard in an Industry of Paper Gangsters" (5 page)

I told Paul and his accountants to send the per diems out weekly, because
they knew how much they were, so they should just send them out. But
they didn’t. Slim never had any money on him, so I had to dig into my
pockets for his liquor, his mistresses’ liquor, his tanning booth trips so
he could get darker, his food, his haircuts, etc. Now, I’m not a platinumselling rap artist, so I can’t afford the spending habits of one, and I told
Paul this. I told Paul, “This boy spends at least $300 a day, and I know y’all
reimburse me, but it’s hurting me. Y’all need to send me a flat amount of
petty cash for this boy so that he has money. Or give me a credit card to
hold for him or something. ”

Paul quickly shot that idea down, saying that I would need power of
attorney for that and he didn’t want to go through that, and I was like, “But
it’s OK for me to spend my money on him! I need my money for myself
to live! Plus, Slim always loses his cell phone so he stays on mine with his
women and his wife, and they call me at all hours of the morning, never
saying good morning, just, “Let me speak to Slim!” I would be trying to
sleep, so I just started turning my ringer off and giving him the messages
as they called. Soon Slim would just ask me where my phone was, and
basically my phone became his phone. They would reimburse me, but
only after a big hassle over who made what calls. Eventually, they set down
a budget for Slim, but it was only $250 a week, and Slim went through
that in a day. I was so frustrated because I was Slim’s personal bodyguard,
not his road manager, not his secretary, not his driver. For the $185 a day
that I was making, it wasn’t worth it. I brought this up to Paul, telling him
that I couldn’t keep up with Slim’s spending habits, even though they
did reimburse me. I told him that I would definitely need a raise for all
the various tasks I was performing. I needed more per diem and a raise
because I was doing more than my job. I was getting pimped. Again, that
idea was shot down. I was like, OK, I settled for the $100 a week, so why
am I still here?

I reminded myself of my reason for remaining: for the networking
to get my own label off the ground. I was trying to help my own group.
No one was doing anything to help me, either. I wasn’t even being paid
properly for the services that I rendered as a security guard. I was being
oppressed, and Paul was the oppressor, and Slim was allowing him to do
so. I was allowing myself to be used, because in turn I was using them
for something that I didn’t have before: the musical connections and the
networking. But they were benefiting more from the relationship than I
was. They gained a personal security guy, a driver, a chauffeur, and a ho
keeper because I kept up with his girls from both coasts. If his wife found
out, she would have killed him, just like she will when she reads this book,
but who cares? The thing was, he lost his phone and his money, and I kept
those things for him because he was as irresponsible as a little kid. He
couldn’t keep up with anything, and he would lose his head if it wasn’t
attached. Keeping up with his personal and professional life required me
to be paid more than the $185 a day that I was making. It just wasn’t worth
it doing two or three different peoples’ jobs, and I realized that getting
certified and better educated about security was the smartest thing I did
while I was out in California, doing something that bettered myself.

This was a day where again it was shown to me where I stood
financially. Paul took the liberty of hiring a guy named Noel, whom he
had known for awhile, and he planned to slide this guy into my place
as Slim’s full-time bodyguard, paying him a rate of $250 a day. I didn’t
find out about this until later on. When I first met the guy, I didn’t care
for him too much for the simple reason that Paul had something to do
with it. The good thing that came out of this was that Noel had a partner
named Rock, whom I had met before and who used to work for Mariah
Carey and was currently working for Funkmaster Flex. Rock and I talked,
and we exchanged some information, and it turned out that Noel was an
OK guy. He was a fair individual. Paul’s plans to disrespect me and Noel
by trying to slide Noel into my spot backfired because the $250 that I
hoped to earn was too small an amount for Noel, and I can understand
that because everyone had their own personal rates. Anyway, the three of
us became kind of cool by working together, and I always requested them
to work with me whenever I worked in New York because I trusted these
guys and they were qualified.We would keep in touch over the phone and
touch base, as well as keep one another posted on what each of us was
making. It turned out that the night of the MTV Music Awards, Rock made
$400 and Noel got $250. Now, mind you, I was working 24 hours, and I
wasn’t making half of what Rock made and didn’t even make what Noel
made. I didn’t blame them in the least because I knew Paul was the one
who set everything up. I should have been making what they were making
because I had to walk Dre and Slim down the red carpet and deal with
all the paparazzi and walk Slim to the bathroom, and even though I got
to be on TV, that wasn’t my first time being on television, and I’m sure it
won’t be my last.

Overall, the awards went smoothly until night fell. It was the afterparty, and it was hectic because everyone wanted to be in the VIP area.
I was thankful for having Rock and Noel there because they really had
my back, and I appreciated that. Again, I had nothing against them, but
in the back of my mind it pissed me off that Paul was paying them more
than me and they were only there for a short period of time. Again, I
liked the way Noel and Rock worked, and I always requested to work with
them and even requested for them to take my place when I went home on
September 11th for my son’s birthday.

Prior to my meeting Noel, I met and got cool with one of the head
security guys from the Warped Tour named Kenny. He and I kicked it and
networked and politicked, and I was going to try to pull him on in my
place when I needed days off. The first time I wanted to put him to use
was going to be for my son’s birthday on the 11th of September, and Paul
agreed to that. However, at the last minute Paul decided that it was too
expensive to fly Kenny from San Diego to Tampa, and he would rather
use Noel. I didn’t have a problem with that because I knew Noel would do
a good job, but I had a problem with Paul changing his mind at the last
minute because Kenny had turned down other work to take this job. That
put a damper on my friendship with Kenny. I mean, we still kick it, and he
understands that I had nothing to do with it, but it comes to mind every
time we talk. It was just another example of Paul being unprofessional. He
doesn’t care how his actions affect other people or whether they are to
anyone else’s liking. It didn’t bother me that Noel did the job. It bothered
me that Paul couldn’t tell Kenny the truth the first time when he gave
Kenny the job, because Kenny missed out on a $1, 500 job elsewhere. Paul
took advantage of every opportunity he could to step on the toes of as
many people as he could, especially security guys, as you’ll find out.

After my son’s birthday, I returned to California in mid-September,
while Slim continued working on his second album. It was business as
usual, with me taking him here and there, spending my money, calling
his hos, making his appointments—it was to the point where it almost
seemed normal. I called Paul to get the remaining itinerary for September.
I wanted to make some personal plans. My wife’s birthday was coming up,
and I didn’t want to miss it. I had already missed our wedding anniversary
in May, as well as my son’s christening, and I was beginning to realize
that some moments were lost forever. I was making a strong effort to at
least not miss any birthdays. I had just purchased my home that year and
had not been able to spend three weeks in it at one time. I was getting
sick of sleeping in the hotels, eating the hotel food, and living out of a
suitcase. Again I wasn’t feeling respected or appreciated, and I knew I
was constantly improving myself yet wasn’t being recognized for it. I
didn’t care if they liked me or not, but they would have to respect me. I
always had a doubt in my mind that they didn’t respect me.We had Hawaii
coming up, with the Dre–Snoop “Break Up to Make Up” reunion there, so
I made arrangements to have my wife come out that Thursday, the 23rd,
so she could go to Hawaii, as well.

Then something really pissed me off. All I asked them to do was to
have a car waiting for her. I had the key to the room for her at the front
desk, but I knew I would be too busy running around to pick her up.
She didn’t know anyone in California. I talked to Dean Geislinger, who
handled all the accounts as far as the limos, and he supposedly made
arrangements for her to be picked up. He is a pretty decent guy. I don’t
know if there was a mistake on his part or some other outside factors, but,
needless to say, there was no car waiting for my wife the night she arrived.
She ended up having to take a taxi, and she was afraid because neither
one of us knew the area too well. I wasn’t asking for a limo or anything
extravagant, just a simple car to transport her safely. They couldn’t even
do that much. It was just a big mess. You would think that for all I did for
them they could get one thing right.

As you will read later, Hawaii turned out to be trouble in paradise.
My wife stayed an extra day but left after all the drama that you will read
about shortly. Anyway, when we returned home from Hawaii, we started
getting calls that we may have had to go back to Europe. We did a 10-day
promo tour there in August, and we weren’t looking forward to going
back. The tour was light work, and it was cool to see Europe for the first
time, but it wasn’t exactly the type of place where you wanted to spend
weeks at a time. Slim couldn’t stand it—he hated Europe. I learned to hate
it, too, at least from the aspect of visiting it on business with Slim Shady.

It was October 7th, about a week before we were scheduled to leave
for Europe, and I was under stress and underpaid. I was reaching a boiling
point from dealing with all the various forms of stress that came with the
territory of working with Slim. I felt that I had proven myself to the Shady

Tours family many times, and in many ways, and that I was worth more
than I was being paid, and I was still not receiving the respect that I felt
due. This was the first time I ever chewed Paul’s ass out. I had tried by all
available forms of communication to reach Paul: phone, cell phone, pager,
and e-mail—you name it. He was unresponsive to all my efforts. Slim was
getting impatient with me because I had no money—which meant he had
no money—and Paul was not reimbursing me or getting back to me in
response to all the messages I had left him. I took the liberty of writing
Paul a two-page letter telling him about everything from the lack of money
to the lack of respect that I was dealing with. I told him how I felt about
being on the road six or seven weeks at a time and only being able to hear
my wife’s and kids’ voices. I was seldom allowed any time off. He didn’t
care about the drama I was going through in California, dealing with
Death Row and Slim’s personal life. He didn’t care about the stumbling
blocks I was going through or the strain my absence was putting on my
marriage. I was on the road raising Slim, a grown man, when I needed
some time to be at home and raise my own kids. I was too busy trying to
cultivate this man and help him keep himself together. I felt a lot of guilt
for giving this man all of my attention and not being appreciated when
I belonged at home, where I would be appreciated, even though I would
only be able to stay for a short time. That really affected my kids and my
wife. My wife told me that my older son couldn’t even sleep at night, and
he would just wake up and cry for no reason. My biggest fear was that I
would come home from a six-month stint and my baby boy wouldn’t even
know me.

I had sacri
ficed a lot and gained little.You can’t go back in time and
regain the moments you missed. I began to analyze what was important.
I looked to my Bible for the answers because no one around me could
really sense what I was going through. I had always been into my Bible,
but I was really leaning on it now. Dealing with Paul and Slim, you had to
pray, because if you didn’t you would wind up killing one of them boys.
That’s the main reason I kept reading the Bible, that and for my own
salvation. I’ll admit I made some mistakes on the road and got caught
in the hype. All security guards at one time or another get caught in the
hype, if they’re not careful. I realized how easy it was to cross the line. It
doesn’t take more than a minute. But some security guards get caught up
and never catch themselves. If you catch yourself and recuperate from it,
you’re OK. I made some mistakes, and one of those mistakes was drinking.
I admit it, I am human.

My
first big mistake was being in Amsterdam. Amsterdam was
full of drugs. I experimented with some hash brownies and drank some
mushroom tea and also went to a live sex show. I got a little out of character,
and it was because I needed an escape from the problems I was going
through and to escape the guilt I felt from being away from my wife and
kids. When I left Amsterdam, I felt like shit. While I was there, I was still
into my Bible, but I was in this mode like, Yo, I’m going to have me some
fun! That attitude cost me some of my dignity and definitely cost me some
of my pride. No one in the crew held it against me. They were all getting
high because that was what Amsterdam was all about: all the drugs you
could take and all the sex you could want. The hash brownies tasted just
like brownie, only they had weed in them; the mushroom tea tasted just
like regular tea only it was shrooms instead. I even smoked a little weed.
I was out of character, but I admit it. It’s sad to say that is one of the only
times when Slim and Paul showed me any respect, because I was on their
level then, I was on a lower level. Being caught up in the hype is not a
good thing because it gets you out of character. I am not the only one
who got out of character. I saw Paul, a lawyer, taking Ecstasy and doing
Whip-Its, which are little balloons of nitrous oxide that are sucked up
through a metal canister, and they freeze your brain and kill your brain
cells. I saw Paul smoke weed. I heard some people say that they were
going to call the bar association because they had seen Paul out in public
places taking drugs. I didn’t judge him because that was what he chose
to do. Personally, I felt as if I had diminished my pride and my dignity to
an extent, because I felt as though I had sidetracked myself from what I
was trying to accomplish, that I had stooped to their level, and that the
one time I stooped to their level, they actually respected me. It was odd,
because it indicated that they believed that I thought I was better than
them because I never had a drink. If I did have a drink, it was in my room
at night while Slim was asleep. I never got drunk because I had a job to
do, and Slim was always unpredictable. If he got up in the middle of the
night and wanted to go to a club or something, how would I look sitting
up there drunk? I only had a drink at times when I wanted to unwind.

After the
first time in Amsterdam, I realized that no one is perfect,
especially me, but I knew that I wouldn’t make the same mistake twice. So,
I really got into myself and stayed in my Bible. I wasn’t trying to be perfect,
I was only trying to maintain. With so much stuff going on, my stress
level was way too high, and I was just trying to deal. The thrill of touring
was gone. I had been on three tours with Slim. I did the Slim Shady
Tour in April, the Warped Tour for five weeks in the summer, and the
10-day European promo tour. Between tours, we were traveling between
recording studios. I needed to have a talk with Slim about some things
that were building up. We never had an off-the-record one-on-one talk
between us before. At this time, we were approaching the time to go home.
It was October 14th, and his birthday was coming up on the 17th. I figured
I had nothing to lose by having a talk with him because I had heard he
was having some personal problems of his own. He was feeling that his
wife was cheating on him because she would never let him stay with her
when he went home, and she was never home when he called her from