(thump of INTERN's exhausted body hitting the floor)
It has been a fast-paced and cutthroat two days, but INTERN is here to report that her new internship is off to a stimulating start.
INTERN spent her first days at Venerable McPulitzer elbows-deep in royalty statements for all sorts of famous and exciting authors, some of whom were in fact dead and whose staggering piles of cash were being forwarded to various heirs and estates (lucky. devils.). INTERN must admit it felt strange to finger financial documents pertaining to some of her literary idols—like seeing them in their pecuniary underwear, with print runs, qty sold, and royalties due stamped around the waistband in place of the Fruit of the Loom logo.
Venerable McPulitzer’s office is sprawling and cavernous, with lots of doors and hallways and a Spanish Armada of filing cabinets. The male staff are greying and humorous in an apologetic way, like highschool English teachers. The female staff are younger and more high-strung, as if making up for their dallying male counterparts. The place is overwhelmingly Caucasian, which makes INTERN feel kind of self-conscious about being yet another white female publishing intern with an English degree (cue recurring impulse to do something Tough and Gritty and Unexpected with INTERN’s life, like...like something!)
Speaking of white female publishing interns, there is some kind of Stepford Intern thing going on at Venerable McPulitzer. There are three other interns, all similar to one another in size and shape, who today at lunchtime ate an identical orange soup from little white teacups, and stayed at their workstations typing away serenely when INTERN and half the office staff left at five o’clock. The lunch thing has a reasonable explanation—some kind of soup-sharing arrangement? But the teacups? And the way they looked so pretty and diligent at ten past five o’clock (interns are supposed to leave at 4:00) while INTERN, haggard and half-deranged after a long day of blitzkrieg royalty statement management, raced out of the office to catch the train?
INTERN will have to keep an eye on the situation.
For now, she must rest. Tomorrow will be here soon, and INTERN will need all her wits about her.
Hurrah for INTERN's safe return and new internship!ReplyDelete
Hmm. Clearly the Stepford Interns are cyborgs. Maybe beta versions of Apple's new offering - the iNtern?
Stay away from the soup.ReplyDelete
Thank goodness for the train!ReplyDelete
I second Tere - avoid the soup. I do love your insights into the Fruit of the Loom staggering piles of cash.ReplyDelete
No worries about the serene and diligent, "haggard and half-deranged" are the more interesting characters to read about. Blitzkrieg!
What you don't realize is that there's actually a stepford-network of blog-commentors who, upon hearing of your internship at Venerable McPulitzer, have arranged for watching eyes to take notes on Intern's IRL interactions. We're writing a secondary blog at SPILLSONINTERN.blogspot.com. Unfortunately, it sounds like our casting director got triplicates of Fake Intern #1 notes... I'm guessing they all have glasses and don't show cleavage?ReplyDelete
Hrm. I concur, stay away from the soup. I hypothesize that's how they are controlled by their evil Intern overlord (or overlady?) and if you're not careful, you'll be pulled into their ranks and never heard from again! *cue impressive crack of lightening*ReplyDelete
Good luck tomorrow!
I wish you the best in this new adventure, INTERN!ReplyDelete
Oh, add me to the list of advisors advising you to stay away from the soup!!ReplyDelete
Good luck with your new internship, INTERN. Being an intern IS gritty and tough. I hereby dub you BADASS INTERN.
I think you should open every conversation at McPulitzer with... a handshake and, "I had Giardia!"ReplyDelete
Haste yee back ;-)
Find the dungeon-esque basement room where they make the INTERNbots and replicate yourself. That way you can simultaneously intern and spend more time with Techie Boyfriend. TB might appreciate an INTERNbot once in a while, just to exchange circuits with.ReplyDelete
So cool hearing about your new INTERNship, INTERN! :) How exciting that you get to work with some of your heroes, even if it is just going through their financial records after they're dead? Still pretty cool, in my book.ReplyDelete
Also, the stepfords sound terrifying. Tread lightly, dear INTERN!
Stay far, far away from the soup. Despite the delightful orange color, nothing good can come of it. And if you became a Stepford INTERN, I would cry.ReplyDelete
I know how you feel about those royalty statements - I work at a motion picture studio and see some dizzying 6-digit numbers fly by once in a while: Hanes - 680,000.ReplyDelete
Yeah, hook me up, sister.
It seems to me that INTERN has wits to spare.ReplyDelete
Maybe INTERN should have Vampire Roommate fix up another batch of camphor to take to lunch. See how the Stepfords react.ReplyDelete
And yes, avoid the orange soup. Stepford INTERNs do not make witty bloggers.
Josin: GOOD IDEA re: camphor. INTERN never thought that Vampire Roommate could come in handy like that.ReplyDelete
Donna et. al re: soup. INTERN is staying away. Yesterday, they all ate identical packets of Thai noodle soup. So there is definitely a sinister soup-sharing arrangement. INTERN has not been invited.......yet. But she will refuse unto the bitter end!
"cue recurring impulse to do something Tough and Gritty and Unexpected with INTERN’s life, like...like something!"ReplyDelete
Like every other listless English major, you mean?
Also, take caution when generating INTERN clones: would you have the resources to clothe and feed all your copies? I suppose you can send one on permanent dumpster-diving duties, but that doesn't account for the soup-refueling.
You could perhaps secret some of the soup away on your person and feed it to Vampire Roommate. Presumably he would know what to do in the event of a doppelganger, and you could perhaps study it at your leisure before making any decisions.
Stepford Interns? Oooh. Keep us posted.ReplyDelete
Oh, the slings and arrows! I still think you're wonderful in a non-graying, unapologetically humorous way.
Living through the Snowpocalypse here in Charm City.
Orange soup? You sure they weren't eating melted sherbet, their secret member-of-the-club favorite food?