#GirlBye.

So in the fall of 2013 I started my job the same day two students from my Alma Mater started as my interns. I was SO excited…they loved me and I loved them and that’s exactly when it all went wrong.

First, they are very young which made it easier to overlook or accept dumb things. Actually, I’d say they were my two most intelligent underpaid angels. They really were the wind beneath my wings when I was doing 500+ mailings and conducting research that the department never used.

Anyway I hate to say it but it was a classic case of American versus Immigrant. American was lazy and expected things to come to her. Immigrant worked hard, appreciated the work and in fact, asked for more work. BUT AGAIN, they were both very very smart.

Anyway this story is not even about home girl from another country. This is about home girl that landed an internship down the street from her apartment (that mommy and daddy pay for..gotta add that part to set the tone). Interestingly enough, she is the daughter of immigrants (as am I) but I guess that hustle didn't make it through the umbilical cord.

1. So, this girl actually really fed into that “T.V. Intern” thing. By that I mean she thought it was totally acceptable to get me coffee and treats. I never asked, she just thought she should. Maybe she was being nice but I really think she thought that was part of the job description. W.O.A (“word of advice”…you’re welcome): your job description will never say fetch coffee so don’t do it. Don’t set a precedent. If and when in a situation where someone asks you to get coffee, get yourself one as well. After-all, if this wasn't an odd and indirect gesture to treat the both of us, then why would you not just get it yourself?

2. Anyway — so she got me a coffee one day and fucked it up and I never heard the end of it. That’s right, I NEVER HEARD THE END OF IT. #WhereTheyDoThatAt? I am polite. You paid for the coffee that you offered to get me, then messed up the order but who am I to get upset? I didn't. So what had happened was that our coffees got switched — she had my seasonal gingerbread that I really wanted BUT whatever. So there I was weeks then months later having the same dumb conversation about that one time she messed up my coffee and owes me one…ugh.

3. Chronic lateness. First, understandable — new schedule, beginning of the school year, and she was young. (Notice I am really hammering in that young part cause Lord, if I don’t — I won’t be able to cope with the level of pure fuckery I deal with.) So, she is late, then late, and then late again. All the damn time. But you remember that tid-bit about her living down the street right? Yeah…

I tried to be the cool boss and I didn't say anything. Then she was annoying me ‘cause she came in late and would have coffee, or like, have an excuse as to why she was late before I could say hello — but most of all she was just very loud and I have a zero tolerance for high levels of volume before 11am. ZERO. Finally, I addressed her tardiness (well, my boss and I). We asked that she kindly let us know when she would foresee being late, either by text or phone call. Which, side note: why are you (my boss) offering up my cell phone number for communication? I don’t sign your ass up for random ass newsletters online so don’t offer up my number as a method of communication.

ANYWAY — So instead of coming late with her loud excuse, she would call late…and loud..with her excuse. I had to say “ohhh, no, no, no, you don’t get it…you have to call BEFORE you’re late that way we are not expecting you.” she says “OK! Got it! Love your shoes!” like a good little sitcom intern, and goes on her merrily little way. Going forward she would always call 5 minutes before she was supposed to be there: “I woke up late” “I’m having a bad morning” “I didn't know it was raining so I walked there and then walked back home so that I could get my rain boots to wear when I leave there…” (yep..all true…)

Until one day when I decided I was too damn nice, too damn cool and she made me angry. Its when you’re intern calls you at 9am and says “Hey I am running late, I am waiting for a cab” and you think to yourself — don’t you live down the damn block? and WOOPS you say it too! She laughs (cause you’re the cool supervisor) and says “ahahaha, I knowwww but my friend ordered me the cab and I can’t leave it because he paid for it”. The perks of being a young (and attractive) professional is that you are HIP. I put two and two together: paid for a cab before hand? + friend ordered it? + you can’t locate it? = UBER. This girl got a uber to take her 7 blocks. Not even avenues. BLOCKS. She showed up 45 minutes late (you know because he paid for it before hand??). #girlbye.

Moral of the story is don’t pull that crap on someone then want them to conduct your performance evaluation. Needless to say I am no longer the cool supervisor…and I am okay with that.