Sometimes, an INTERN needs to put on a slinky dress and toolbelt-as-purse and go out dancing on a Tuesday night.
Techie Boyfriend: Where did that dress come from?
INTERN: Alley behind our building.
Techie Boyfriend: Hang on.
Techie Boyfriend: (returns holding a small hammer). Take this.
Techie Boyfriend: If you're going to wear that toolbelt, you totally need to be carrying a hammer.
INTERN: Got it.
Fast forward two hours. Music is playing, INTERN's girl friend has gone to the bathroom, and INTERN is making her way to the dance floor when a semi-familiar face pops up in front of her.
It's Nemesis Intern, who INTERN has not run into in months. He is wearing a blue dress shirt and jeans, and mostly looks like his normal Wusiness Beek self except the top four buttons of the shirt are undone, revealing a rather un Wusiness-like patch of skin.
Nemesis Intern: Oh my god, I totally know you from somewhere.
INTERN: Big Fancy Office Building. You're the intern for Wusiness Beek.
Nemesis Intern: Yeah! That's it! I'm not doing that anymore.
INTERN: Oh yeah? What are you doing now?
Nemesis Intern: Grad program in Econ.
Nemesis Intern: What's the hammer for?
INTERN: Busting heads.
Nemesis Intern: So can I buy you a drink?
The rest of the night was surprisingly fun. There was minimal talk of things Wusiness, INTERN's friend and Nemesis Intern hit it off, and comradely 2 AM pizza was had by all. And INTERN actually used the hammer (only somewhat extraneously) to bust herself out of a bathroom stall when the lock jammed. Coincidences abound!
Today INTERN is sleepier than usual, but all she's had to do so far is lick envelopes, so everybody wins.