Considering that I run this blog anonymously, you can probably understand that I have to preserve my identity due to the fact that I actually have a real full-time job other than blogging about Pittsburgh sports and dick jokes. Don’t get me wrong, if I could reveal my identity without getting fired in -2 seconds, I would do it. I literally can’t fucking stand being a cube monkey any longer, and I’d much rather have the freedom to write and say whatever the fuck I want instead. But as of right now, I can’t totally do that. My current “career” pays the bills; therefore, I can’t afford to be an even bigger asshole by risking my employment just for the sake of blogging about certain aspects of my professional life. Today’s somewhat of an exception, though.

Ever since I’ve graduated college a few years back, I’ve worked for the same financial firm in downtown Pittsburgh. Our office mainly consists of a bunch of old white men (and some women) that call the shots. There aren’t a whole lot of young guys roaming around the joint. Besides the small percentage of young full-timers like myself, there’s also a steady influx of interns on a regular basis. In fact, yours truly used to be one of them until I became a full-time employee after college.

Now, I can’t speak for all other companies in my industry that employ interns (I’ve only worked professionally for this firm), but when I think of an intern, I think of a fucking pissant. Interns are basically personal assistants that handle the mindless tasks that either your employer doesn’t have time to do or just flat out doesn’t want to do. Plain and simple. I don’t care what any academic advisor tells their students in college, you aren’t an intern to learn valuable professional experience that you can carry over to a future employer. You’re an intern to be someone else’s professional bitch. That means endlessly filing papers, sealing envelopes, running out of the office to pick up coffee and lunches, running other personal errands for your employer, filing more papers, doing research on financial analysis that will make you want to tear your eyes out, creating spreadsheets a person with a fifth grade education could prepare, and so on. You are the scum of the office, and you’re lucky if you even make minimum wage. If there was an actual totem pole that designated hierarchy in the office, you aren’t even on the fucking thing. You’re nowhere to be found. You’re a dispensable little rat that’s lucky to be there, and you should appreciate every second you have a job so you can build your stupid resume.

What I witnessed today by one of the interns in the office was quite possibly one of the dumbest things I’ve ever seen anyone do in the five years I’ve worked at this firm. And I’ve seen some really dumb shit go on here. This incident was way dumber than those times when a former top employee used to show up to work blatantly shitfaced. I’m talking smelling like vinegar, words slurring drunk. This was worse than that.

Today, the managers ordered lunch for the entire office. To give you a quick insight into our office, having lunch ordered is a pretty big fucking deal. Most of my co-workers are fat fucks that love to eat. And even though this is a pretty frequent occurrence to have lunch ordered for the entire office (as in once almost every other week), people still go apeshit. The morning of a “lunch day” people are constantly walking around asking others what they think the office is ordering that day. It’s the talk of the office. Will it be a taco station? Will it be a salad bar? Will it be sandwiches? People literally do not shut the fuck up about it. Productivity is down office-wide. So when people finally see caterers arrive with containers of food prior to noon, everybody gets so giddy with excitement to race to the kitchen the moment our branch liaison announces that the food is served over the loud speakers. It’s like a god damn free for all.

So before it was announced that lunch was ready in the office today, one of the slimebag interns snuck into the kitchen and fixed himself a plate before anyone else. A motherfucking PEON intern. I sat at my desk in disbelief as I watched this dopey kid with his stupid fucking hair eat his sandwich and potato salad while the rest of the employees eventually made their way to the kitchen to get their share of food. I still can’t figure out whether or not this kid is the most oblivious motherfucker on the planet, or if he has gigantic elephant-sized balls. Did he really think it was okay to grab food before the people that actually work full-time for the company?! I was so mad I wanted to judo chop this kid in the neck. I mean, all this kid is is just a stupid fucking college kid that provides almost absolutely no value to the company other than sealing fucking envelopes for his team’s birthday card mailings. He’s literally as low as you can get in the company, yet he’s getting first dibs on the pastrami sandwiches?! I’m just baffled. My dad used to bitch at me all the time when I was growing up about being a spoiled, entitled brat. Don’t get me wrong, I was pretty damn spoiled, but I never once did something as stupid as this. When you’re an intern, you wait your turn. You should know your role. If that means all that’s left in the kitchen is bread crumbs after everybody takes their turn, then tough shit. You didn’t earn it. YOU’RE A MOTHERFUCKING INTERN!

Wow. Does this mean I’m starting to get really fucking old? I feel like I’m 26 going on 52 right now.