Last night, I received a somewhat desperate call from Harvey Weinstein. He said he wanted to take me out to dinner and discuss something that could be incredibly beneficial to both our companies. I could tell this was going to be a disastrous meeting.
Since Harvey wanted to pay, he chose a restaurant that he could afford – the Sizzler on Hollywood Blvd. He told me not worry about what it costs, he was paying for “all I could eat”. We sat at his normal booth and the waitress, Maria, brought us some Texas Toast. Harvey folded his piece and took a healthy double-bite.
“Let me get right to the point, Khan. I want to take Manka Bros. off your hands. Based on your Theatrical and TV slates, I can see your struggling. All I would need is a $10 million dollar upfront payment.”
I barely heard what he was saying because the Texas Toast was surprisingly excellent.
“Khan, did you hear what I said? Maria, more toast over here – chop chop.”
“You want me to pay you $10 million to take my company away from me. Ten million for the world’s largest media company – which my father and uncles founded and built from the ground up nearly 100 years ago?”
“Fuckin’ losers those guys, Khan. No offense. I’ll turn your goddamned dinosaur of a business into a cash cow in… oh, I don’t know… three weeks! I’ll fuckin’ get Tina Brown to run your books division. I’ll fuckin’ get Rob Zombie to do some kind of movie shit, asshole. Think about it.”
Harvey got up to go to the salad bar. “Do you want me to get you some cantaloupe?”
I nodded my head and made a call to Lloyd Grohl (Manka Bros. President and COO) to see if there was anything we could or should do for poor Harvey. Lloyd quickly told me to turn him down nicely and get out of the Sizzler as fast as I could – that my life was in danger!
“Nobody, Harvey. Look, I have to turn you down. Manka Bros. isn’t for sale and will never be for sale. Manka Bros. is a giant media conglomerate. The biggest in the world. You don’t buy us – we buy you. And, from what I hear about your current financial situation, I don’t want to buy you.”
“OK, Khan. I understand.”
I paused, expecting one of his signature tirades. It didn’t come. He was just staring at his Texas Toast.
“Harvey? You’re OK with that?”
“Yes, Khan… but, one night when you’re sleeping, I will enter your bedroom and skull fuck you to death.”
It was said in such a kind, light-hearted way, it almost seemed like a compliment.
Harvey took bite of a taco, the juice dribbling down his chin.
“Hey, Khan… you wanna buy some shoes?”
By the end of the night, I agreed to buy his shoes for $15.
I think I like poor Harvey better than rich Harvey.