It's Intern Season

I keep forgetting to write about our little interns, they're really the cutest little things. We just got a new batch of three of them: Matt, Suneet and John. Or, as we like to call them around the office: The Good One, The Stoner and The Fag. As his nickname would indicate, Matt is a great guy. He's sort of like a scared little rabbit who is desperately trying to gain acceptance from the clan. He works hard, strives to achieve and is generally a good guy. Granted, we need to get him to calm down a little and take a lunch break every now and then...but I really like Matt. He's my favorite. Then there's Suneet, who I'm liking more and more. That kid cracks me up. He's clearly so stoned so much of the time I don't see how he gets away with it. I mean, it's not like we're retarded innocent virgins holed up in Afghani caves guarded by Taliban sentries. We live in SF people...it's SO obvious. But he's nice and he's funny and he's actually not my problem, so I could care less. Then there's John. Oh, John. The Fag.

John started off on the wrong foot with me. Then kept going. I try to keep conversation to a minimum with him. Damn though, do I ever love shooting down that kid's big mouth. All the interns and a new hire started on the same day. Until I learned their names, I called them by number. John was Number Three. While the other three kids have grown on me, John has not. Which is why I still call him Number Three. And every time I call him that he says, "My name is John. Why don't you just call me John. You know my name!" Which I do and all, but what do I always tell him? "You'll get a name when you've earned one." Which is never really going to happen. Anyway, two funny stories about John. First off, we had a work happy hour last Friday. I booked it the very second I could, but I hear John got trashed and ended up spilling his drink on himself. Way to go, intern! And at your first company outing too! The other story? Perhaps he should have double-checked his outfit before leaving yesterday morning. His stylishly torn Diesel jeans allowed an escape route for his man fruit. Yeah, that's right, dude's balls were hanging out all day. And what did admin do? The right thing and pulled him aside and let him know? Oh, no. Not at all. We laughed all day. And why? Because we'll let you know your balls are hanging out when you've earned that kind of respect.

In other news, Jim is Captain Dickhead for throwing a hissy and not letting TJ come to work on Friday (aka Take Your Dog To Work Day.) What a dick. Dick.