You moved here from Indiana with dreams of ruling over a TV network and living out your days in a Malibu megamansion. But this is the real world, and that means years of soul-sucking grunt work first. 18-hour days at a desk answering phones, emails from your boss reminding you to water the lobby fern (which you’ve been remembering to do on your own for two years), and a black hole of a social life.
Which is why we created The LA Assistant’s Survival Guide. The next time the VP of Development tells you he needs a good restaurant to take his third wife or you need a dive bar to hit rock bottom in, we have you covered.