Sometimes referred to as the Hollywood for ugly people (although I take umbrage with that last part), my city Washington, D.C., like La La land, is a fishbowl of ambitious folks who inevitably float into intense relationships. Anywhere where goal-oriented one-track-minders mingle is a recipe for hooking up, breaking up and then seeing the last object of your affections at the next industry reception.
But hiding beneath a table or boxing your way out aren’t viable options for any scandal-averse adult. And in a town filled to the brim with ex-boyfriends and future bosses, making a fool of yourself won’t guarantee unfavorable publicity so much as it will unemployment. Of course, the easier road to take is the highest one. An added bonus is that from way up there it’s harder to get dirt on your shoes or your record.