"Shady Bizzness: " Life as Eminem's Bodyguard in an Industry of Paper Gangsters" (2 page)

That Friday, we did another show, and at this one nothing special
happened. That day Slim had no time to sleep and couldn’t sober up
due to press conferences. He took drugs to stay up and to fall asleep. He
was dependent on chemicals, I guess from the pressure of the shows and
the press. I think the drugs came in mostly because of DT (his first road
manager). DT would always pull Slim aside with his knapsack and give him
drugs. Slim would take Ecstasy and shrooms before every show, and DT
always furnished them. He would always try to slip someone something,
and you had to watch him because he would try to slip something into
your drink or food when you weren’t looking. I told him if I ever suspected
him of fucking with my shit, I was going to kick his ass. I attribute Slim’s
excessive use of drugs to DT. Although Slim was a grown man and could
make his own decisions, DT was extremely influential. I saw Slim cry for
the first time in Boston when couldn’t deal with the pressure of the tour.
He broke down, and it was a sad sight.They were pressuring him for more
press and more interviews, and it drove him crazy that they were always
asking him the same questions. He cried and stormed out of the hotel,
and Proof went after him to console him. He missed Hailey, his daughter,
and I saw him as human because of that. That was the first time I ever
thought of him other than as an entertainer. He was real—and had real
feelings—even though he was intoxicated all the time.

On April 17th, we headed to California for the
first time.We rode on a
private jet about the size of a Pinto, and it fit me like a pair of pants from the
eighth grade. We had to go through Customs, and Slim had a pocketful of
drugs, so he started stuffing pills inside sandwiches. I couldn’t believe it!
I knew I wasn’t holding shit for anybody. I thought Customs was going to
bring out the dogs, but they didn’t. I saw at that point that Slim didn’t care
about anyone else’s comfort—nothing outside of his own world matters,
and he’s very self-centered.

We arrived in LA just after an earthquake hit.We went to a hotel right
on the beach. It was a real nice hotel, with an oceanfront view, just like in
the movies. The toilets were heated and everything. We were in California
for three days shooting the video for “Role Model, ” and it was a long-ass

shoot. It was on this shoot that I met Sarge and Rowe. They were Dre’s
security. They watched me like a hawk, despite the fact that I was working
for Slim. That made me nervous. They thought that opposing forces had
sent me to infiltrate the aftermath. We all laugh about that to this day. The
shooting lasted for sixteen, eighteen and, sometimes twenty hours over
three days. Slim had to do his own stunts, which put him under a lot of
stress. I took care of him, but I still wasn’t getting any type of response
or respect. He hadn’t opened up to me. He would just take off sometimes
without me. He would lie about his whereabouts and didn’t grasp the fact
that he was a well-known star now and needed security. He thought he
could handle himself, and I had to talk to him about trying to shake me
all the time and that I was hired to protect him.The video shoot started to
go more smoothly after that. One time, his road manager disappeared for
a while, and I had to step in and take over that responsibility. I didn’t get
any thanks for that either, even though I did go out of my way and above
my duties. It was cool seeing Dre and Slim work side by side. His wife and
kid accompanied Dre, and they by his side while he worked. It reminded
me of my family. Slim started getting sick, and things were getting hectic,
but finally the shoot ended and everyone could get some rest.

There was tension because Paul and DT were at odds since DT went
missing in action at the video shoot. DT treated the fans like shit for real
then, and he lagged behind when we were loading the bus, which put
Slim’s life in jeopardy. Plus he took Slim out to sign autographs without
me, and I checked him about that. He wasn’t hearing anything I had to say,
so that became our first run-in.

This was the wildest, most diverse crowd I had ever seen. They were
off the hook! There were at least 3, 000 people there—the rowdiest people
I had seen in my life—but all of the different ethnic groups were in
harmony. They were fighting to get to Slim. They were rushing the stage
and throwing shit. They twisted up the bicycle barricade and threw it like
it was a pretzel. People were building human ladders and rushing the stage
like that. I had to put Slim on my shoulders and run him to the dressing
room with a wall of security guys around me. Someone pissed everybody
off by throwing a beer bottle through the dressing room window. It was
wild!

On May 5th, we did Vegas. I was stressed out, tired, and missing my
family. Living out of a suitcase and living on buses was getting tiring. The
show was funny because some kid wore an ICP T-shirt to the concert.Why
would this kid wear an ICP T-shirt to a Slim Shady concert? Everyone
knows that Slim hates ICP. So, upon Slim’s instructions, the crowd ripped

the T-shirt off the guy and beat his ass and threw him out of the concert.
After the show, the guy was waiting at the bus in another ICP T-shirt,
saying he wanted to talk to Slim, but I think he wanted to do something
to Slim, to be honest. Slim said he wanted to go talk to the kid, but I knew
he was going to go over there and beat the kid up so I didn’t let him. Next
thing I knew, Gus (the tour manager) said he got a call from MGM security
saying that a fifteen-year-old girl was missing who said she was coming to
the concert and asked if we’d seen her. We said “no” and shrugged it off.
That night the police called my room, and I told them we didn’t have any
fifteen-year-old girls with us and got off the phone.The instant I hung up,
they were knocking at our doors, searching our rooms. I told everyone we
needed to leave because obviously they were trying to pin something on
us—and since this was Vegas anything could happen. We got the hell out
of there!

It was crazy that night! All of these people were in the VIP room—
Slim’s people and Dre and his people—and my job was difficult, but
Sarge and Rowe helped me out a lot. We kept getting a request from
inhouse security for this fighter, Tank Abbots, to come up and meet
Slim— he was demanding to meet Slim. The name sounded familiar, but
we weren’t letting anybody else up in the room. We proceeded to do the
show, and the electricity of that show was amazing! Slim had a chance to
meet Dustin Hoffman earlier, and he convinced him to be the mummy as
a stage prop that night. No one in the crowd knew that Dustin Hoffman
was the mummy, and Dre did a surprise spot and performed “G Thing, ” as
well. It was off the hook! Suddenly, we noticed the crowd part and these
three goons making their way to the front. I knew then why the name Tank
Abbots sounded familiar to me. He was one of the “Toughman” champions
WCW-type muthafuckas. He and I were talking shit back and forth, and
I knew that I had backup from Dre’s security, as well. DT busted Tank
Abbots over the head with a bottle, and basically we were fighting him
offstage for the whole concert. We found out that they came looking for
us at the hotel that night, too, and we told hotel security about the earlier
altercation and not to let those guys in. It was wild!

On May 9, 1999, there was a hip-hop riot, and guess who started it? Slim
Shady, of course! We were in San Francisco, California, at The Fillmore
when it happened. Slim was in the middle of a hype performance when a
hater started heckling him. Slim took notice of the guy and retaliated by
dissing him. The heckler continued, and Slim got pissed. The next thing I
knew, Slim had jumped off the stage with a flying right cross. Unfortunately,
he hit the wrong guy, and then it was on! The crowd swallowed Slim like
a giant mouth, and I proceeded in after him. Slim was getting his ass
whipped by the same people that helped him sell triple platinum! When
I waded into the furious crowd, I was punched. I then turned to the SOB
that struck me and beat him into bloody unconsciousness. I had forgotten
all about Slim. I had beaten this guy until he was out cold. The crowd
could no longer support his weak legs. Immediately, pandemonium broke
out. There were more people fighting in the crowd. DJ Head jumped in
to fight; Billy, the soundman, left the booth to scrap; the Interscope street
team was throwing blows; and The Beatnuts were kicking some ass.Young
Z from the Outsidaz and I were back-to-back knocking muthafuckas out!
Finally, I noticed Slim on the bottom of a shit-kicking pile with this big
fella on top of him. Proof and I started whaling on this idiot. Proof kicked
the guy in the head a few times, and I gave this dude some nice rib shots
he won’t ever forget. Finally, we picked Slim up and threw him back on
the stage.We all had to fight to get to safety because the crowd had turned
against us. I rushed Slim to the side of the stage and told Gus that we
needed to get the fuck out of there! Gus said, “The show must go on, or
they’re going to kill our ass!” and we all reluctantly agreed. We attempted
to brush it off as the crowd shouted, “FUCK YOU, SLIM! FUCK YOU,
SLIM!” Proof came to the rescue by grabbing the mic and hyping the
crowd to another level. He said, “Ya’ll muthafuckas like that shit!” They
screamed, “HELL, YEAH!” Proof stood side by side with George Clinton
of the P-Funk Allstars. He continued by telling the crowd that Detroit
muthafuckas whoop ass! The crowd went nuts. DJ Head ripped the

turntables with some hype mixing and scratching. When Slim came back
on stage the crowd showed genuine love like the riot never happened.
Slim made the crowd go into overdrive by performing “Still Don’t Give
A Fuck!” The energy was unbelievable. Everywhere you looked, fans were
crowd surfing and moshing in the pit. It was amazing to see a fickle crowd
cause chaos then release love for Slim. Slim gave the crowd two ovations
that night, and they deserved it! After the show, a satisfied crowd mobbed
us. Some groupies actually thought that the big brawl was part of the
show. We told them that we always do that! That next day we awoke with
bumps, bruises, and scratches from the unforgettable riot.

The show was off the hook, and the crowd was feeling us. We had the
super groupie at this show. During the autograph session at this show
in the main lobby, she got down on her knees in front of everybody and
tried to suck Slim’s dick. She unzipped his pants and everything, but he
wouldn’t let her. Rumor has it that some of the guys from the opening acts
took her back to the hotel and got her drunk and, from what I understand,
ran bustos on her while she was unconscious and left her in her own
vomit. When she came to, she was ready to fight and call the police, but