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.

The Dollar Rail Drink In Your Hand Is Worth More Than You

When you spill a beer at happy hour, which you are only attending so you can flaunt your name tag and gloat about how Senator X came in and brushed your desk on his way to his office, be a decent human being and ask someone to grab a mop. Or, really go nuts and grab a napkin yourself.

Also, if you drop a glass and it shatters everywhere, SAY SOMETHING. Don't just let your fellow SI's in their commuter flip flops shuffle through it. So what if the waitress glares at you? You're the alcoholic who broke the glass!

Understand that everyone is mocking you. Yes, you. If you notice that a bouncer is standing near you, it means you are a drunk whore and he is waiting for you to either puke, throw a punch, or ask a friend to let you "just lean on them and let you close your eyes for a second" at which time he will derive pleasure from throwing you out.

When the waitress "accidentally" brings your food last, or forgets that side of ranch you wanted, it's because you are a douche bag and don't deserve nice things.

When the waitress clears away your pyramid of Natty cans that you and your friends are giggling about, it's not because she has to, it's because she wants to hear you whine and steal a small part of your fun because you suck her soul every night.

When the bar tender dances with you, it's not because he likes you, it's because you suck at dancing and his co-workers need a good laugh.