I just found this old photo of a place I used to work. It was called Nina Gordon Public Relations, but all it really was was one middle-aged woman in a dark little house on Coldwater Canyon. I worked there for two weeks as a temp answering phones, sending faxes, and searching for things hidden beneath piles of old really old entertainment magazines and boxes labeled “Divorce”. At some point Nina Gordon had leased legitmate office space on Wilshire Blvd., but by the time I arrived her business had deminished to the point that the only client she was actively promoting was the Playboy Jazz Festival. In spite of this, Nina was very fond of talking very loudly on the phone about how “crazed” with work she was. Ah, Hollywood.

I just found this old photo of a place I used to work. It was called Nina Gordon Public Relations, but all it really was was one middle-aged woman in a dark little house on Coldwater Canyon. I worked there for two weeks as a temp answering phones, sending faxes, and searching for things hidden beneath piles of old really old entertainment magazines and boxes labeled “Divorce”. At some point Nina Gordon had leased legitmate office space on Wilshire Blvd., but by the time I arrived her business had deminished to the point that the only client she was actively promoting was the Playboy Jazz Festival. In spite of this, Nina was very fond of talking very loudly on the phone about how “crazed” with work she was. Ah, Hollywood.