Step Away From the Blackberry

You are hot shit, you spiffy SI. We all wish we could wear your pearl necklace, kitten heels, and pencil skirt or your ass-hugging khakis, sportcoat, and white shirt that you have to have drycleaned because you are too spoiled and/or stupid to wash and iron it yourself. Moral of the story, you already rock, so whipping out your Blackberry every twenty seconds only adds insult to injury.

Let us first remember, it is not your Blackberry, it is the one you were given for the duration of your internship. You only have it so that Senator X or CEO Y can remind you that they want Splenda in their their venti no-foam latte, not Sweet and Low. Press secretaries need them. Journalists need them. Actual Hill employees need them. You do not. Everyone knows you don't. So when you pick it up three times in the course of an elevator ride from the Sub-Basement to ground level, you look like a monstrous tool.

Also, when you are standing in line for that latte and it is your turn to order, don't talk on said Blackberry. It is rude. And you are not important enough to be rude. Few people are. You are not saving the world, you are not ending world hunger, you are not curing cancer. Hang up and call back the fellow SI to whom you are likely talking after you tell the poor man or woman who has to serve you what you want.

Get it together.