by Jeff Fisher I arrived in Los Angeles the way most people do: broke, optimistic, and dangerously underinformed. I had two phone numbers in my wallet. One belonged to a game show publicist whose Dad played poker once a week with my Dad back in South Florida. The other was a young associate producer I'd met on a show I'd PA'd on— a warm, funny young woman that might best be described as a Long Island Princess with absolutely zero interest in sugarcoating anything. She picked