honey, you’ll never believe what happened at work today…adventures in reality tv

The Roadtrip

by: anonymous

Everyone thinks they've been on the most wild, harebrained road trip in history, usually over Spring Break and involving several illegal substances. But you've never been on a road trip like this.

A few years ago, I was producing and shooting in Topeka, KS during a windy, frigid winter for "Intervention". We were following an alcoholic woman as she struggled with her addiction. She was quite young and very wealthy and lived in a big house with only her cat for company. His name was Puddy Tat Ashworth. (Not kidding.) After a couple weeks shooting her drinking binges, shouting matches with family and general escapades around the house wherein she would prance in her underwear and scoop Mr. Ashworth into her arms for ballroom dance moves, it came time for the Intervention on our dear subject. Her family, the interventionist and a counselor from the treatment facility that was prepared to sponsor her rehab walked up to the door. Before they could reach it, she looked through the peephole and locked them out. Everyone was devastated. We thought all was lost and this woman would be left alone with her cat to waste away in the grip of her addiction.

I never thought an Intervention would be possible with the addict on one side of a massive oak door and her entire family plus professionals on the other side, but eventually she started listening to the counselor and decided it was time to get help. She let the woman in, and let the crew in (ignoring her entire family, who were outraged) and agreed to go to rehab in Jacksonville, FL - with one catch. There was no way Mr. Ashworth, being feline royalty, would be left alone without his mistress. Nor would he be subjected to the freezing cargo hold of a jet bound for Florida. The only way our subject was going to treatment was in a stretch limo and she was taking the cat with her.

Being so wealthy, she of course agreed to the $10,000 telephone quote from the shocked limousine company. They headed over and started gathering up her luggage and Mr. Ashworth. His litter box went on the floor of the limo, just beneath my feet as I loaded in, prepared to cover this part of the journey no matter what. At this point my investment in our subject so big that as soon as I heard she was going, I steeled myself for the journey ahead. I knew that I'd be going with her to document everything. I spent the next three days in the back of the limo with our subject, her new counselor and Mr. Ashworth, who liked bouncing all over the limo and sunning himself through the window - just above me on the back of my seat. The litter box was a smelly eyesore. I shot, slept and held my nose the entire trip. Our subject demanded chick flicks on the TV for the entire drive while she cradled a bottle of Moet & Chandon for her "last drink" upon arrival. We flew timelessly through the states - Arkansas, Mississippi, Tennessee. I remember gazing dreamily out the window in Memphis, seeing Graceland whiz by and thinking, what in God's name is going on here?! This is not real! Eventually we reached the Florida panhandle and on toward Jacksonville.

We pulled up to the treatment center in the dead of night, smelling of kitty litter and Chee-tos. Our subject stumbled out of the back of the limo and proceeded to pop the cork on her bottle of champagne. She pulled out a glass and poured herself a final drink of bubbly. She sucked it down, then threw the glass at my feet while I was shooting. The glass shattered and pieces flew all over the place, but thankfully not into my eyes (thank you, Panasonic). Then she ceremoniously gathered up Mr. Ashworth and dragged herself into the facility. She checked herself into rehab for the next 90 days. Last time I looked in on her, she was sober and doing wonderfully, so it all worked out. But you have to agree ... weirdest road trip ever.