Illustration: Margalit Cutler
You may know Kareem Rahma from riding the subway, but he spent the past week in a lot of cars. He was chauffeured (for the first time ever) around the city for Brandcast, YouTube’s massive upfront presentation, and finally premiered his new series, Keep the Meter Running, which follows New York City cabdrivers to their favorite spots. Rahma chose to produce the series independently but still hosted a lavish premiere at Metrograph along with an after-party at Boom. He then immediately packed his bags and drove to his Connecticut country house, where he goes to preserve some level of normalcy. “All my neighbors are old, and they have no idea who I am,” he says. “They don’t have a take.” Throughout one of the most eventful weeks of his life, Rahma comforted himself with many burgers (medium and medium rare), morning lollipops with his daughter, and his new favorite beverage: Guinness.
Tuesday, May 12
I wake up, I look at my child, and I give her a big fat hug. I have the same breakfast every single day, which is one soft-boiled egg, an assortment of cheeses — Swiss, Gouda, something fancy and expensive — and half an avocado. Sometimes there’s a little labneh or hummus, some chopped tomatoes on the side, some feta. It’s like a modern-day meze platter. My wife, Karina, is usually up a half-hour before me, already chopping things up.
We make coffee in this thing called a Moccamaster. It’s like a pour-over except it’s a machine that does the pour-over for you. I used to make a real pour-over every morning, but with the baby, I no longer have time. Karina drinks an oatmeal-caramel concoction, which I find disturbing. I’ve been into coffee since I lived in Minneapolis. I was early on what they used to call third-wave coffee. I like either the most normal thing in the world, which is bodega coffee, or a really great cup of coffee. I don’t like anything in the middle. At night, I’m thinking about the coffee I’m going to have the next day. I normally have two cups, but today I have an early call time, so I am out the door after just one.
I head to the dress rehearsal for YouTube Brandcast at Lincoln Center. It’s total Birdman-band vibes. Everyone with clipboards, it’s a massive production. I’m shocked. I really need another cup of coffee, and they’re like, “You have to go do soundcheck.” I don’t want to be a diva, so I say it’s fine, but internally I’m grumpy.
After another shoot, I get lunch at Dudleys with my manager and assistant. I’m really craving a burger, but I just tried on a suit for Brandcast, and it’s a little tight. I keep saying out loud, “I really want the burger, but I’m fat. I really want the burger, but I’m fat.” My manager says, “What if we split the burger and split a Cobb salad?” I say, “That’s great. That’s just enough fatness.”
Later, I stop by my office for a nap. I wanted an office after we had the baby because I was working from home and the kid was too distracting. I have a detached garage I used to work in with the door open, but my baby would often come outside to play. I live in South Slope, and it was starting to feel like, I don’t live in New York, I live in Park Slope. So I got a place in Manhattan. It used to be a Chinatown dental facility on the fifth floor. Some of the offices still have sinks in them, which works out for the person next door to me, who cuts hair. Mine is a corner unit with windows on all sides, the size of a bedroom, hence the nap.
I head to a YouTube press shindig with Trevor Noah and Cleo Abram. The production values at these are always amazing. Everyone is really organized and buttoned up. Usually, in my life, that is not the case at all. I have handlers. It’s the first time in my life I feel famous.
After the event, I get dinner at Minetta Tavern with the fellas: Jeremy Zimmer, the former CEO of United Talent Agency; Michael Green and Reza Izad, who run Underscore Talent; and Adam Faze, the producer of Keep the Meter Running. Jeremy and Michael are next-door neighbors. Adam is very close with Jeremy, I’m very close with Michael, so we’re all connected and regularly do this little fellas’ dinner. Because I picked Minetta, I have the honor of ordering starters. Two bone marrows — way too much, four sticks per plate, and there are five of us, but to my surprise, all of it is eaten. Crab salad, which I think is a new menu item. Steak frites because it’s simple and wonderful. I used to order medium rare and found people were going too rare, so I switched to medium. It’s because of this new category called “medium plus.” It’s a little over medium but not well done, which is disgusting. I do not condone medium plus. This one comes out medium rare in the good way. I get two Negronis as well.
Wednesday, May 13
Same exact breakfast at home. Two cups of coffee. Luckily, I have a later call time, so I get to have a lazier morning. I play with the kid, and when the nanny comes, I start steaming my clothes. I’ve been doing so much press that I’ve run out of clothes — I can’t repeat an outfit. So I recently used up some J.Crew credit on two suits, but I sent the wrong link for one of them and got a baby-blue suit instead of green, which means today I have to wear an old gray houndstooth suit.
My call time for Brandcast is 1:15, so the car picks me up an hour before. I make the big mistake of wearing the suit instead of carrying it because I wanted to be hands free. Amateur move.
Lunch is a weird crafty meal during our second dress rehearsal — chicken with red sauce on top of rice, fat potatoes (wedges, basically, which I hate) — and an assortment of fruit. The fruit is great. Saves my life. I alternate between my coffee, Diet Coke, and Celsius. I prefer orange but the non-carbonated one.
We do another dress rehearsal, then I sit in the greenroom for a while, letting my suit wrinkle some more. I have a really great 30-minute one-on-one with Alex Cooper. I’ve never met her before, and I go up and say, “Hey, Alex, my name’s Kareem, how are you?” She says, “Fine, how are you?” — she doesn’t really recognize me. I tell her I host a show called Subway Takes, and she says, “Oh my God, I love that show.” I’m a Daddy Gang–er now.
The red carpet starts at 5:30. By the time I’m getting photographed, my whole suit is wrinkled. I find my shirt is also wrinkled, and I didn’t like the shirt to begin with. I call Adam, who is about to pick up his own suit at Paul Smith, and say, “I know Paul Smith makes things for skinny people, but if they have any shirts in 2XL, buy them for me and I’ll pay you back.” He drops off two shirts for me on the red carpet. I go to the bathroom and try them on — they’re both too small. A Paul Smith 2XL fits like a large. I end up walking the red carpet holding a Paul Smith bag.
Brandcast goes super well. Chappell Roan performs. It’s crazy to do 14 hours of prep, plus all the emails and texts and calls, and I’m onstage for four minutes. There’s a big party at the same place after. I stay for about an hour and a half, make the rounds. I don’t eat the passed apps. I’m saving myself because I know I want a little late-night meal.
Adam and I end up going to Blue Ribbon Brasserie. I order another burger — I actually order it medium rare this time. Adam gets a burger too. We order frites for the table. I’m not even that hungry, but I need to wind down. It’s nice and cozy and surprisingly not busy at 11 p.m.
Thursday, May 14
Same breakfast — soft-boiled egg, avocado, cheese, two cups of coffee — plus a lollipop. I’ve introduced my daughter to lollipops, and it’s adorable. The first thing she says to me that morning is “lollipop.” I say, “What color?” She says, “Red.” Then, “Baba lollipop.” (Baba is how you say “dad” in Arabic.) I say, “I don’t want a lollipop right now.” Then, “Baba baba baba blue.” So I have a blue Dum-Dum. I don’t love it, but it’s also hard not to enjoy a lollipop.
I’m pretty sure I have gym clothes at my office — usually I do because I just joined Equinox, which is right near it — but today my gym clothes aren’t there. So I come up with a plan: I recently got an email saying I had a $250 credit at the Equinox store. I figure I’ll just go use my credit at Equinox and then work out in those clothes. I bike over and get there at 11:15. Turns out the store closes at 11 and reopens at like four or five. I’m faced with a very tough decision: I can either go back to my office or just work out in my outfit for my premiere tonight. I decide to work out — black tee, black denim, Doc Martens. I only lift weights, so I don’t really get sweaty.
Later, I get a breakfast sandwich at Little Canal. Super simple: bread, cheese, egg, avocado. It’s great. Breakfast sandwiches are fantastic and underrated and should be eaten any time of day. That’s how my wife and I connected on Hinge. There was that prompt “Hit me up if you like …,” and we both said “breakfast for dinner.” We go to diners a lot and have breakfast for dinner — 7th Avenue Donuts & Diner in Park Slope is our spot. We had our third date there.
I head back to the office to fuck around and wait. Adam comes in to steam his suit. My assistant, Madyson, comes in. People use my office as a hub. Doors at Metrograph open at 6:30 for the premiere, and I don’t want to arrive exactly on time. So I go to Clandestino for half an hour by myself to have a pint of Guinness. I just went to Ireland and am newly obsessed. A friend walks in, then another friend. Then Jeremy Zimmer walks in, and I’m like, “What the hell are you doing here?” He’s sober and 65 years old. He says, “Oh, I’m just here to take a piss. I rode a silver Citi Bike for the first time from uptown.” More and more people keep showing up. I didn’t tell anyone I’d be there, but word got out. Suddenly, it’s 7:15 and somebody comes in and says, “Metrograph is really popping.” So I head over, and it is indeed fucking popping.
The premiere is the best night of my life — truly. It’s so much fun, and the fucking crowd is perfect. And then obviously watching the show on the big screen hits different. I didn’t plan on staying for the actual screening, but I end up watching both episodes from the back of the room with Adam. I get really emotional and start crying at the end. So does he. It just goes by so fast.
Ramy Youssef does the Q&A after the screening. He has been supportive of the show since day one — he watched early cuts, we had planning meetings with him, just talking about the series and what it should say. He had this really great tip where he was like, “If anything feels off or boring ever, just make it more personal.” That was his overall note, not just about the show but about everything. We also bring up the cabbies featured in the show. I’m surprised so many of them are able to come. Their families come too; they’re all so proud of their dads. John McDonagh, one of the cabbies featured in the show, says, “I used to drop people off at these parties, and now I’m the star.”
I wasn’t planning on going to the after-party. I don’t like after-parties at all. In fact, I told everyone we didn’t need an after-party. The screening at Metrograph was all I ever wanted. The worst part of a wedding is the dancing. Why do people need another wedding after their wedding? You should get married, have dinner with everyone, maybe a little cocktail hour, and then everyone should go home. I was like, “No one’s going to come. We’re going to walk in, and there’s going to be 50 people in this huge room.” Then I’m finally like, “You know what? I’ll go.”
I’m shocked when I walk into Boom. I can’t believe it. No. 1, I’m like, “Who are these people?” because I don’t know a lot of them, but I’m so happy they’re there.
There was food being passed around at Metrograph, but I only ate a tiny cookie the size of a quarter, so I’m starving. The pizza at the after-party is from Alvo, a pizza restaurant I own one percent of. An hour before Metrograph, Adam tells me we have pizza coming for the after-party, then he tells me where it’s coming from; I Google it and realize the owner has values I don’t align with. I’m like, Dude, this is an hour before Metrograph. I can’t think about giving $2,000 to this guy. But also, why aren’t we using my pizza restaurant, which I own one percent of? So I call Pier, who’s my partner at Alvo, and I’m like, “Hey, can the guys make 40 pies by 10 p.m.?” He’s like, “Of course they can.”
Around 1 a.m., a girl walks by with four slices, and I’m like, “Please give me that.” I leave around 2:30. I hail a yellow cab. It only makes sense to take a yellow home on a night like tonight.
Friday, May 15
I’m a little hungover. I wake up at my usual time, but I’m much slower. I have the same meze breakfast. Afterward, while Karina goes for a run, Soufi and I watch the two episodes we premiered last night. She just keeps saying, “Baba TV. Baba’s on TV.” She’s learning Arabic words — maya (“water”), samaka (“fish”), yalla (“let’s go”), obviously.
I spend most of the morning on my phone. I do Instagram posts, send thank-you texts, look at pictures, and relive the night before.
We’ve been going to the country on Fridays — we have a little house in Connecticut. It’s not in a hip town. In fact, the closest one is 20 minutes away. It’s not like Woodstock, where you can be like, “Oh, we’re going to go into town to take a walk.” It’s just forests and old people. I live in the boondocks.
Normally, we leave at 9 a.m., but this time we don’t leave until three-ish. I planned it this way, going directly from a big party in New York immediately to the country. I know myself, and I’d take any opportunity to continue the party. If I were in New York tonight, and somebody suggested a victory lap, I’d be like, “Let’s fucking go.”
On the drive up, we stop at Fife ’n Drum. I get another burger and Caesar salad. We get to the house and literally go right to bed. Soufi goes down at seven, and that night so do we.
Saturday, May 16
I get up at eight, like always. Karina is on Zoom all morning, and I have the kid. The kid and I go to this little countryside coffee shop, and I eat cherry pie with her for breakfast. Then we go to the hardware store. I need screws for the knobs on the kitchen cabinets. The house is a year old, but it needs work, and I’m chipping away. I’m actually really bad at it. These are the easiest screws in the world, but this is the fifth or sixth time I’ve been to the hardware store because I keep getting the wrong size. They’re either too long or too short. I don’t really know how to measure them, so I’m just guessing. I have numbers dyslexia — I just don’t like to even think about numbers. This time, they’re too long. So now I have to go back and get them a little shorter but not as short as before.
After the hardware store — I get the screws and put them in my pocket — Soufi and I go to the lake, where she runs around and I just sit there and watch her. So cute. Then we go home, Karina is done with class, and I try to put the screws in, which doesn’t work, and I get frustrated, so I go out to the yard and kill some weeds. I have an invasive Japanese-knotweed situation. There’s a whole patch of it, and it’s growing fast.
I’m craving cacio e pepe, so Karina makes it for the first time ever, plus a Parmesan asparagus salad. It’s fucking good. Sadly, I don’t cook. When I was single, I would eat out three times a day for every meal, every day. I usually just sit there and drink wine or beer while she cooks, but I have other jobs — killing the weeds, attempting to find the right screws.
See All
