Powerhouse: The Untold Story of Hollywood's Creative Artists Agency

by James Andrew Miller

I said, “If you haven’t ordered dessert, don’t! Pay the check. You’ve got to get in your car and drive to LAX right away.” He said, “No, no, no—I’ve got to go home and pack a bag.” I said, “You don’t have time. You need to fucking go now.” He said, “Don’t curse at me! Who are you?” I said, “The guy who’s going to get you your job back. You’re wasting time and you need to go now.” He said, “Why? When’s the plane?” I said, “In twelve minutes.” He goes, “I’ll never make it.” I said, “You will make it. Just stop talking.” Now, there was a pay phone in the basement of our building at 1888 CPE and I had seen on Dragnet as a kid that supposedly if you use a pay phone and you put a handkerchief over it and you hang up within three minutes, they can’t trace the call. So I called up the airline and called in a bomb scare to delay the plane and hung up. Then I went back upstairs, called the airline, and a recording says, “Flight to Paris delayed.” Yes!!