Sure you down home cool cats are used to moseying into the mess hall, bumping into the baseball player you hooked up with the night before and waving frantically to your sorority "sisters" at your table by the window before grabbing a tray and standing in line for the meal of the day. You may not be used to paying $8 at meal times, you may not be used to eating anything other than your do-it-yourself salad bar or the too-cool-for-school stir fry that the cafeteria people make right in front of you, but guess what, your not in Kansas anymore - food costs money, so does service.
You may not even say hi to the poor souls who give you your pizza and fries in the dining hall, but they are humans and you should, similarly, while you are pretending to be Carrie Bradshaw and going out to eat, don't forget that your servers are also humans. They happen to be humans who run their asses off to get you honey mustard and ranch dressing for your french fries, who circle your table to keep your drinks full, not because they like you but because they need money.
If they do a good job and are pleasant, you should tip them. Not with the quarters at the bottom of your bag, but with dollars, with 18 - 20% of the tab if they were good. If Daddy is paying your credit card anyway, what's the difference? If you only want to act like a big girl when you are in the office doing that grueling 8 hour shift we discussed, then don't go out to eat. Go hole up in your dorm and trade secrets with your new room mate with whom you will certainly be friends for the rest of your life.
And one more thing - water glasses are for drinking, not for drunkenly filling with ketchup, salt, gum, and wadded up napkins. This is a respectable city in which normal people function from day to day - get it together.
Wednesday, May 28, 2008
Friday, May 23, 2008
Working 8 Hours?!
Just throwing it out there, it is not a big deal to work an 8 hour day.
Maybe you are used to a mid-day round of frisbee golf, or a puff at the old hookah in the quad, but reality check, folks...the rest of the world works 8 hours. People who go to schools not surrounded by cattle and rolling hills and work during the week - they put in 8 hours a day. All those other people on the street at 8:30 am - 8 hours. The people who clean the halls of the dorms your parents are renting for you during the summer - you guessed it, 8 hours.
On the way to work today, I passed two exasperated SI's who were explaining that yes, they actually had to work from 9:30 - 5:30. What a novel concept!
"No, Mom, you don't even understand, I was so tired last night, I was there (the office) from like 9 - 5!"
"Yeah, it's like really intense, I have to be there at 10 and I didn't get to leave until like 6! It was so weird."
Yes, truly strange and unheard of.
Maybe you are used to a mid-day round of frisbee golf, or a puff at the old hookah in the quad, but reality check, folks...the rest of the world works 8 hours. People who go to schools not surrounded by cattle and rolling hills and work during the week - they put in 8 hours a day. All those other people on the street at 8:30 am - 8 hours. The people who clean the halls of the dorms your parents are renting for you during the summer - you guessed it, 8 hours.
On the way to work today, I passed two exasperated SI's who were explaining that yes, they actually had to work from 9:30 - 5:30. What a novel concept!
"No, Mom, you don't even understand, I was so tired last night, I was there (the office) from like 9 - 5!"
"Yeah, it's like really intense, I have to be there at 10 and I didn't get to leave until like 6! It was so weird."
Yes, truly strange and unheard of.
Thursday, May 22, 2008
Take It Off
We know you are excited to work for Senator X on the Hill. We know you are a true badass for landing an internship with the State Department.
We all want to be you.
But for heaven's sake, take off your damn nametag at the end of the day. Don't "accidentally" forget to remove it before happy hour, for this makes you a tool, not an employee who is so wrapped up in his job that he just didn't have the time to remove the tag that flops against his chest all day.
Nametags are a pain in the neck and should be considered a collar given to you by your political owner.
Here is the truth about name tags:
* During the many very important errands you run every day, you walk so fast that your tag flies behind you and you have to reach to your side to retrieve it in order to present it to the Capitol subway guard.
* It gets in the way when you go to the bathroom so you sling it over your shoulder along with the tie cutting off your air supply. (Ladies, this goes for you too, sans the tie.)
* You look like an inmate in the picture.
The bottom line is, the people you are meeting for drinks/coffee/dinner after work know what your internship is, so stop being an attention whore. And please, for God's sake, if you have worn it to the bar/restaurant and STILL no one has noticed it, quietly remove it, don't ostentatiously look down and say, "Oh, I totally forgot to take this off."
It's just painful and blatantly awkward.
We all want to be you.
But for heaven's sake, take off your damn nametag at the end of the day. Don't "accidentally" forget to remove it before happy hour, for this makes you a tool, not an employee who is so wrapped up in his job that he just didn't have the time to remove the tag that flops against his chest all day.
Nametags are a pain in the neck and should be considered a collar given to you by your political owner.
Here is the truth about name tags:
* During the many very important errands you run every day, you walk so fast that your tag flies behind you and you have to reach to your side to retrieve it in order to present it to the Capitol subway guard.
* It gets in the way when you go to the bathroom so you sling it over your shoulder along with the tie cutting off your air supply. (Ladies, this goes for you too, sans the tie.)
* You look like an inmate in the picture.
The bottom line is, the people you are meeting for drinks/coffee/dinner after work know what your internship is, so stop being an attention whore. And please, for God's sake, if you have worn it to the bar/restaurant and STILL no one has noticed it, quietly remove it, don't ostentatiously look down and say, "Oh, I totally forgot to take this off."
It's just painful and blatantly awkward.
Tuesday, May 20, 2008
They're Here...
A new city is scary, it’s thrilling, its stunning…but if you are going to be a train wreck, there’s no reason we can’t have some fun at your expense.
Most of these lovely interns don’t go to school in a city, which explains a bit about the following SI’s seen and heard on my way to work:
Converse sneakers and business pants holding nothing more than a notepad with a huge DC map sticking out of it.
“Can you tell me where K Street is?” she asked. We were standing on 19th and L, NW.
Now I could have rolled with this if she was standing on Penn desperately searching for J Street, but this was not the case. Take a looksie down the block, if you see the letter “M”, you can be sure you are going in the wrong direction because, for the convenience of you lovely SI’s, we have both LETTERED AND NUMBERED THE STREETS. You are holding a map and standing in a grid…life skills.
A pale red-head in a sleeveless dress, her brand new Nine West “office heels” already digging blisters into her feet as she dashes through the rain. Her hair was frizzing, her computer bag was slipping off her shoulders, and she was two seconds away from throwing herself into oncoming traffic on Thomas Circle. Hot mess.
Escalator rules: stand on the right, walk on the left. Perhaps WMATA should print a sign to post at all Metro stations in May and June. Why must a pack of Hill-bound SI’s playing dress-up in sport coats and Hillary suits linger on the left?
Most of these lovely interns don’t go to school in a city, which explains a bit about the following SI’s seen and heard on my way to work:
Converse sneakers and business pants holding nothing more than a notepad with a huge DC map sticking out of it.
“Can you tell me where K Street is?” she asked. We were standing on 19th and L, NW.
Now I could have rolled with this if she was standing on Penn desperately searching for J Street, but this was not the case. Take a looksie down the block, if you see the letter “M”, you can be sure you are going in the wrong direction because, for the convenience of you lovely SI’s, we have both LETTERED AND NUMBERED THE STREETS. You are holding a map and standing in a grid…life skills.
A pale red-head in a sleeveless dress, her brand new Nine West “office heels” already digging blisters into her feet as she dashes through the rain. Her hair was frizzing, her computer bag was slipping off her shoulders, and she was two seconds away from throwing herself into oncoming traffic on Thomas Circle. Hot mess.
Escalator rules: stand on the right, walk on the left. Perhaps WMATA should print a sign to post at all Metro stations in May and June. Why must a pack of Hill-bound SI’s playing dress-up in sport coats and Hillary suits linger on the left?
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