Killing the Boss is Definitely Grounds for Termination... And Other Lessons I Learned as a Celebrity Personal Assistant

"CNN's out front," the gardener informed me one June morning in Brentwood, CA. I quickly glanced at the sophisticated surveillance screens that covered half the wall in my small, cramped office and, sure enough, a CNN van was parked outside the front gate, along with "news" vehicles from Entertainment Tonight, Extra, and KCAL, a local Los Angeles TV affiliate.

Reporters holding notepads, microphones, and other paraphernalia stood around sipping coffee and peering in and over the wall that separated my employer's palatial estate from the outside world. Paparazzi readied their equipment as they waited for the coveted shot of my boss, currently involved in a tumultuous break-up, exiting her home. For lack of anything better to say, I told the gardener, "Tell them she says, 'No comment'."

This was just one of many situations I was called upon to triage daily when I worked as a celebrity personal assistant to several Hollywood luminaries. For anyone thinking this is a cool gig, I'm here to set you straight. Of course, parts of it were amazing. I met many of my idols. I got to travel and go to places and do things most people only dream of. But, as with most jobs, "personal assistant" has a seedy underbelly, and in showbiz, that underbelly is extra seedy, sweaty, and in serious need of lipo.

Of course, back then I had no idea what I was getting into. I was a UCLA student looking for a part-time job when one day a post caught my eye. A celebrity power couple was looking for an assistant, and the position paid a lot, which should've tipped me off because it was way too much money to screen a few calls, run errands, and do some glorified handholding. It certainly didn't sound tricky, and the perks were irresistible. Looks good on paper but nope, just nope.

I learned hundreds of lessons during my stints assisting the stars, but here are 6 that would've taken home the Emmy if, you know, they gave Emmys for that sort of thing.

It didn't take long to learn the ways of Hollywood's rich, famous, and spoiled. Everything appeared pleasant enough at first until one day I heard my name being screamed louder than usual. Hurdling the steps from the tiny basement office like Sha'Carri Richardson, I burst into the kitchen expecting to find an OJ-worthy crime scene or worse. Instead, there stood the master of the domain, gripping a ceramic bowl brimming with fruit. The beet-red face and bulging eyes indicated another possibility: stroke.

"Is everything okay?" I asked him, quickly reviewing CPR in my head.

He picked up a banana as his neck veins pulsated. "Does everything look okay?"

I knew it was a trick question. Obviously, things in the tropical fruit department were not okay.

"Bananas are supposed to be yellow and not half green like this one." He thrust it toward me. "Do you see the problem here?"

"Maybe it just has to ripen," I offered in a small voice.

He closed his eyes and exhaled deeply. "See that it doesn't happen again."

LESSON #1: ONLY "YELLOW" BANANAS IN THE FRUIT BOWL

Shopping chores varied from job to job. Whether it was a $0.99 pack of Kleenex or a $100,000 SUV, I always had a list of items to purchase with the company credit card. Yes, I was seriously sent out to buy a high-end SUV once, with no guidance or budget restriction. When one Emmy-winning actress asked that I go to Frederick's of Hollywood to buy sexy lingerie for a big date, I suggested she might want to purchase the items herself, simply because I didn't need the unwanted visuals. She told me not to worry; just pick out the sleaziest things possible. Two hours later I returned with crotchless panties and pasties for a woman who had no business wearing either. Another celeb asked that I go to the pharmacy and pick up an over-the-counter medication called "Be Sure." I had never heard of it, but she assured me it was there and to buy all they had. Imagine the looks I received as I stood at the checkout line with 15 boxes of a product that cures extreme flatulence.

LESSON #2: INFORM EVERYONE, "THESE ITEMS ARE NOT FOR ME."

Nursing chores were the strangest of all my hands-on duties, and I use the term loosely. Being way past her childbearing years, another employer decided to try in-vitro fertilization. This is a lengthy and expensive process that involves daily injections of hormones. Against my will, I was summoned into the doctor's office and told that I would be administering two shots: one in the arm in the morning and another in her upper buttocks at night. I remember thinking at the time, "What in fresh holy hell is this?"

"You're going to want to take notes," the nurse said.

I'm no Meredith Grey. Needles make me woozy, and I can't even watch someone giving blood on TV. When my boss dropped her drawers and bent over the examining table, I winced. There are just some things you can't unsee. As the nurse filled the syringe, she told me that I had to rotate butt cheeks every day to prevent tissue hardening.

She pointed to the large butterfly tattoo on my boss's left cheek. "Never inject into the tattoo."

I coughed. "Where should I inject when it's that cheek's turn?"

"Between the wings."

The nurse then asked if I had any questions. I had a ton, but I was more focused on keeping down my lunch. In typical fashion, my boss pulled up her pants and left the room, not the least bit concerned if my 30 seconds of med school training had soaked in. The nurse handed me extra needles, alcohol swabs, and Band-Aids.

Before leaving, she gave me one last bit of advice, "When you fill up the syringe, make sure you tap all the bubbles out."

"Why?"

"Any bubble traveling into the bloodstream can cause immediate death."

LESSON #3: MANSLAUGHTER IS DEFINITELY GROUNDS FOR TERMINATION

The level of pampering celebrities become accustomed to is naturally off the charts. Another actress I worked for took a weekend excursion to New York City. Upon arrival at her five-star hotel, she deemed the bedding unacceptable. I was then contacted and ordered to FedEx all the linens from her bed at home. After finding a box big enough for everything and shipping it off, she called later that afternoon hoping I had not forgotten the Raggedy Ann doll. Back to FedEx I went with her sleeping companion. On another occasion, Coffee-mate had to be overnighted to her. When I suggested she could buy a brand-new Coffee-mate at any one of the thousand corner delis in Manhattan, she reminded me who I was and demanded her Coffee-mate from her kitchen. This of course made me wonder if hers was an illegal substance, so I tasted it like a true DEA agent. To my surprise, I found it was just plain old non-dairy creamer.

LESSON #4: STAY ON GOOD TERMS WITH THE FEDEX DUDE

The worst part of the job was getting in the middle of marital and family squabbles. When shouting matches ensued right in front of me, I usually tried to duck out of the room using the old "It's time to reorder paper clips" excuse. This of course was impossible if I was stuck in a limo with the arguing pair. And you might as well sound the death knell if you take sides or offer advice on the significant other. Even if you give your opinion gingerly, you'll be chastised later by the partner with lines like, "So I hear you think I'm a grandiose "overt" type narcissist with a borderline personality disorder?"

LESSON #5: ALWAYS KEEP YOUR OPINIONS TO YOURSELF

It was only natural I would eventually meet other lords and ladies in waiting. Once a week, we'd gather at a local watering hole to drink heavily, swap stories, and console one another in what turned into a support group for the flunkies to the famous. I thought I had it bad until I heard what other assistants had to deal with. One gopher had the job of changing her employer's bloody turbans after hair transplants. Another Girl Friday had to wax her aged boss's lower back every two weeks.

LESSON #6: THERE'S NO BUSINESS LIKE SHOW BUSINESS

My advice to anyone wishing to take on this occupation is this: go into it with a sense of humor and thick skin. If you're lucky enough to find one of the rare down-to-earth celebrities like, say, America's Dad, Tom Hanks, good for you. And they are out there. If, on the other hand, you end up with a nutter and the job doesn't work out, so what? It will be an unforgettable experience and you'll either have fabulous stories for the rest of your life or recurring nightmares involving in-vitro fertilization injections.