I moved to LA for the first time when I was 19. Directly after my first, of about 6, failed years of college. My mother raised me in NJ where she was still seeing my little brother through high school. Karin, tolerant woman that she is, decided I had had enough booze and drugs for one year and sent me to live with my father in Los Angeles for a “reality check.” Good call mom. Where else to send your overly intoxicated 19 year old but Hollywood, the model for well adjusted humans. And so “Super Intern,” was born. I moved in with Dad. I had my own section of the house that is still nestled in the Hollywood Hills. Dad noticed that after about a week I spent ALL of my time reading magazines and smoking cigarettes on the back patio. So....dad quickly came up with a solution. He made a few calls to some old friends in the “industry” and set up a meeting for me at Paramount...maybe they would have something to occupy my time? I walked into the office of the “Director of Creative Affairs,” and upon admiring my own reflection in the bald spot of the 25 year old assistant that could have been a stunt double for Jason Alexander, I knew I had the internship. I mean come on...like this character would say no to telling a cute 19 year old girl what to do, and not have to pay her?
The interview lasted 20 minutes after which I was told that I should come back next Monday and they would have me start as their new intern. During my time at Paramount I managed to do the following (and MUCH more) things that led to me being Christened “Super Intern”...by all offices that I worked for (unofficially, although I bet I could still get STELLAR recommendations) I got Sam Goldwyn’s hetero assistant laid. Several times. Trust me..homeboy didn’t have time to jerk it..let alone find a girl to fuck him. Major victory! I convinced another assistant that I was an aspiring pornographic actress and would love for him to take a look at my amateur videos for an honest opinion, since he “works in the movies...and knows about these things...”(a few months later when another assistant that I was friends with told him those videos didn’t really exist and that I as fucking with him, he got so furious he erased me off IM...ouch!) I privately entertained a married executive in my apartment.
I managed to have one assistant be so entirely infatuated with me that he would have his pharmacist friend messenger Medical Marijuana and Xanax to my desk once a week. I dated the President of Paramount Pictures’ son. O man. (Confidentiality agreements will not allow me to say more. Seriously.) O yeah, and I was so efficient and well organized that 4 other departments hired me as their principal intern, until Mutual Films across the street bribed me from the Paramount lot. I was so good, in fact, that they didn’t want me to ever stop being an Intern and did everything in their power to keep me from being promoted. Moral of the story: Work hard enough to impress but not so much that they won’t let you leave.
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