The Intern.
There are so many wonderful things I’ve taken from Seinfeld – hundreds and thousands of life lessons that I’ve internalized and incorporated in my day to day life. When I first started work, for example, I was getting slammed with stuff do. It seemed like every time I turned around, there were three new projects waiting for me at my desk. Reaching a breaking point late one evening, I tapped into the wisdom of George Costanza. I whipped off the chipper grin I had been forcing over my usual grumpy disposition, and started acting extremely irritated. When I knew others were looking at me, I would shake my head furiously and pull at my hair. My stride became rapid and arm movement frantic, even when just getting up to get a glass of water. When people asked me how I was doing, instead of responding I would just sigh and shake my head. And frankly, it worked like magic.
Soon my desk was empty. When coworkers would ask me to do something, they would always preface it with “I’m so sorry to do this to you, but…” Even the simplest tasks became “Oh, Chris, I’m so sorry, I know you’re super swamped, but, whenever you get a free second, could you move your chair off my purse?”
After a show stopping performance one afternoon, my boss asked me to come into her office. She pulled up a chair next to mine, put her hand on my shoulder and said “Are you doing okay? You seemed stressed out.”
I thought to myself, oh shit, maybe I’ve taken this too far. I responded “No, I’m really fine…”
My boss interrupted. “It’s okay Chris, you don’t have to pretend. I understand that we’ve given you too much work,”
“No, I mean, really...It’s…”
“I think we should get you some help in here. How about bringing on an intern?”
“No but….” and then it hit me. An intern? An intern would be AWESOME. It would be like having my own personal assistant, albeit an unpaid one. “…An intern would be a huge help, because I’m just so swamped.”
So, I began my search for an intern. I posted want ads on college websites and craigslist. My hopes were high, but the responses trickled in slowly. I waited, but after ten responses, it looked like no more were coming in. So with only ten resumes in my hand (one including the phrase “I read you…Now you READ ME!!!!!”), I started calling people in for interviews. And they were a motley crew for sure. In my head I had pictured a group of dewy eyed college students, with their little sweaters tied around their waist and their book bags hanging off one shoulder. What I got was a bunch of out-of-work fashionistas, who either misunderstood what I was looking for, or who frankly scared the shit out of me. Out of the ten resumes I received, only seven made appointments to come in for an interview. Of those seven, only five showed up, and of those five, three of them were older than me. Much older than me.
One of the interviewees was about thirty five. He was dressed in all black, and when he sat down, he handed me a revised resume which included “professional vampire” under experience. When I asked him about it, he responded “it’s really more lucrative than you would think.”
And that’s when I gave up.
It was obvious I wasn’t going to find an intern from this rubble of disaster. There were a few that were decent, but after they came in my co-workers said things like “Make sure you’re absolutely in love with the person before you hire them….” We would stare at each other for an awkward length of time, and then they would continue with “you know what I’m saying?”
I did know what they were saying…no girls in lavender jump suits.
So I let the intern thing fade away, hoping my boss would forget about it so that we could all move on with our lives. It worked for awhile too, until one day, while eating lunch, she stopped in mid sentence and said “WAIT, what happened with you getting an intern?”
“So you’re just going to give up? That’s it? One vampire and you’re calling it quits?”
Suddenly, what was supposed to be helpful became just another task. I sat down at my computer and decided that I was going to knock this intern shit out. I revised my want ad, inserting explosive adjectives and strings of explanation points. “AWESOME intern wanted at BREATH-TAKING artist management agency!!!!!”
The second time, the applications came pouring in. I had so many I didn’t know what to do with myself. I immediately started calling people in for interviews, and let me tell you, this group was leaps and bounds better than the first. I had found my dewy college students once and for all. Out of the first round of ten people I brought in, I found the one I wanted. She was perfect. Cute, funny, intelligent, not crazy...she seemed to have it all.
I called her so i could tell her she was hired, but she didn’t answer. I left a message, but didn’t get a response. I sent an email, just in case her phone had been acting funny. Two weeks later, and still nothing. My boss started asking me “so where’s this intern of yours…” I was getting nervous that I would have to start all over again, when finally she contacted me. “Sorry,” she said. “I’ve been in
This initial ordeal should have been some sort of warning, but I decided that travel was an acceptable excuse for not returning my phone calls.
The night before she was to start, I tossed in bed all night, dreaming of things I was going to have my intern do. Maybe I would take up drinking coffee, just to make her go and get it. Maybe she could organize the post-its on my desk in a more pleasing fashion. Maybe I could make her walk to
The day she started was a little awkward, but fine. I overlooked the fact that she was 20 minutes late, and hopefully she overlooked the fact that my zipper was down. It was a busy morning, so instead of giving her a lengthy introduction, I just kind of threw her into it. And she did pretty well, considering.
The second day, I found a voice message waiting for me at my desk. It was the intern. “I’m so sorry, but I actually have a really bad cold and can’t leave my bed this morning. Very sorry. See you tomorrow.” I decided to tell no one, knowing fully well what they would say. “Your intern is sick on the second day of work? I don’t know Chris…doesn’t sound like you picked a winner.”
The third day she arrived, again 20 minutes late (and again my zipper was down). She settled down quickly and got to work. Around
“Of course not,” I responded. “Go get some food.”
An hour later, my boss asked me “what happened to your intern?”
I responded “Oh, she went out for lunch.”
“How long ago” she asked.
“Uh…about…twenty minutes ago”
“You’re lying to me, aren’t you” my boss asked.
“No...” I said. “…maybe”
After an hour and half passed, my boss returned to my desk. “Still gone?” she asked. “She’s not coming back.”
“Maybe there was a long line. Maybe she’s having really terrible service.”
Around
My boss blamed me. “She probably hated it here because you didn’t feed her lunch on the first day!”
“Well, maybe if Ruby hadn’t played Cat Stevens all damn morning…” I responded.
“Don’t blame me!” Ruby joined. “I’m sure Nicole talking to her about American Idol for 20 minutes didn’t help.”
“I like American Idol…” Nicole trailed off.
I decided that it was time to let the intern go. I announced to the office that no matter who caused her to leave, she was done. Completely afraid of confrontation, I selected email as the best method. The problem was I forgot to email her before I left work on Friday. The whole weekend past, and it was Sunday night before I realized my error. I quickly signed onto my work account from home and sent her an email, hoping that she would get it before Monday morning.
Monday morning came, and the first thing my boss said was “so you fired your intern?”
“Yeah, I sent her an email” I said.
And then, for the first time since she started, my intern arrived right on time. She walked in, all smiles and sat down right in front of me. Nicole and Ruby both turned towards me with looks of wild amusement, and feeling my face turn bright red, I stared down at my desk. I felt panic run through me like a train. I hate confrontation more than anything. I reviewed my options in my head. I could just ignore the fact that I had, apparently unannounced to her, fired her. We could just act like everything was normal. Sure, it might be awkward when she gets the email and realizes that she was fired weeks before. But what about my boss? It was doubtful that she would be down with the whole charade. I had face up to the fact that there was only one option. I had to fire her then and there.
I pulled her aside into my boss’s office and sat her down. “So…what happened last Friday?” I asked her.
“Oh…” the intern looked around awkwardly. “Was I not supposed to leave? I thought you knew that I was leaving for the day. I’m sorry, was that bad?”
“Um…well, when you left, I assumed that you weren’t really serious about this whole internship. So, I kind of already fired you. In an email. Which you apparently haven’t gotten yet.”
“Oh…” my intern responded. “Wow, so this is awkward, isn’t it?”
“Yeah,” I said. I could hear my coworkers fighting laughter in the background.
So my intern and I had a long heart to heart. She apologized profusely, and I offered her a second chance if she promised me she was serious about it. When I was finished, my boss pulled me aside and told me she was proud of me. “You handled that really well,” she told me. “I was impressed.” And frankly, I was proud of myself too. I felt like my intern had really bonded. Sure, the first week had been rough. She hadn’t been the best intern, but I hadn’t exactly been the best boss either. No, we were both to blame, and a lack of communication was chief component. But there we were, just two weeks ago, in my boss’s office, hashing it out. At the end of our frank discussion, we both left feeling a little better about ourselves. We were a team, she and I, and together we could conquer anything.
And then last week, she called in sick. Twice.
The End
