What's up, guys? It's Thad the Intern.
I have the pleasure(?) of spending this summer interning with Dealbreaker covering Wall Street, and more specifically, Wall Street interns. Overworked interns are the backbone of the American economy from May to August. Whether it's making copies or grabbing the coffee or being the emotional gimp of a junior banker working out his own demons, interns are completing tasks that are pivotal to the operations of some of the biggest companies in the world. We come into the workplace, wide-eyed with dreams of one day owning a summer home out in Montauk, only to realize that before you have a beachside cottage, you need to stand on the corner of 51st and Lex bleary-eyed, broken and hungry for the sweet release of death wondering how you fucked up that Jamba Juice order...and why that second-year M&A analyst threw it at you so hard.
As I walked into the office this morning, all my aspirations for the summer quickly faded away. Thornton was slow to greet me, and then proceeded to usher me into the intern office which is an office in the same way that Olive Garden is a fine Italian restaurant. After I looked at memes for roughly 2 hours, I was brusquely told that my intern assignment would be covering the interns of New York City. I'm covering the boys among the men of Manhattan, which I think makes me a toddler among boys. The Janitor has more clout than I do at the moment, but come mid-July I'll be the king of this office...or at least somewhere on the org chart above Shazar.
We, interns, are the silent minority, and our struggle for a tentative job offer needs to be documented for all to hear. I'm here to document this struggle for the unsung heroes of the American workplace (during the summer).
If you guys have any intern stories, emails, pictures, voice memos, podcasts, telegrams, or anything of that sort, send them to firstname.lastname@example.org.
And pray...pray for me.