Friday, July 29, 2005
So, yesterday afternoon I dragged one of the interns to American Apparel to keep me company while I looked for a new shirt. This particular intern is an odd personality. She’s only 20 and her defining quality is that she is an endless stream of blather. She talks so much her voice – part surfer part valley girl – dulls the sharp edge of your brain and actually manages to flatten the life out of every story. She could read Penthouse Forum to frat boys and they fall asleep from boredom. The volume of words coming out of her mouth is astounding (she is talking right now in fact). Most of her statements sound like they are in the form of a question (“This movie I saw last night about a French Canadian hockey team? It was filmed in Chmonix? My mom always talked about going to Chmonix?”). Her comments are often punctuated with a low-pitched staccato laughter that bounces into your head like rubber bullets. They don’t kill you, but the pain is so intense that you wish they would.
Anyway, she came with me. I guess I chose to punish myself in this way because she reminds me of what it’s like to be a 20 year-old girl and a brave one at that. She is actually extremely capable and her next internship is in London with the world’s most prestigious magazine publisher. Yes she talks and talks and talks but her 20 year-old stories that seem to meander from one pointless intersection to another really mean something to her. People had patience for me when I was 20. I can have patience for her.
My god what would I do without interns.