Sunday, August 02, 2009

Heard: I Do Not Discuss My Work

At a recent happy hour I was introduced to a young female intern by a good friend of mine who had attended high school with said intern. After my friend introduced her, he excused himself to the restroom, leaving me and another friend alone with the intern at our table. She seemed nice enough so in an effort to make small talk my friend politely asked "Where are you interning at?" She seemed put-off by the question and immediately replied "I don't discuss my work" and folded her arms in a manner that matched her tone. Puzzled, my friend shot me a glance that screamed "WTF." Familiar with this type of game I quickly responded with "So you work for the CIA?" Shocked by my hasty retort she looked awkwardly towards the ceiling before re-stating "I DON'T discuss my work". Knowing this boneheaded response all-too-well, I smiled and again posited "So you work for the CIA?" Clearly out of ideas and uncomfortable with my line of questioning she pardoned herself under the auspices of "getting a phone call."

When my friend returned to the table, he asked where she went. Rather than telling him what had just happened, I asked him where she interned. His response: the CIA.

Heard: Definitely NOT PC

On Friday night around midnight, I got on the Red Line to head home. Metro was single tracking (From Grosvenor to Friendship Heights) at this point, so it was going to take awhile. At either White Flint or Twinbrook, a rowdy group of interns got on the train. They were pretty drunk, and seemed to be enjoying themselves. I overheard one of the interns say that they were going to Adams Morgan, and should be there in 5 minutes.

Needless to say, it didn't take 5 minutes to get to Adams Morgan. We were moving slowly and also stopped a couple times to let trains pass by. Eventually, a couple people in the group started to complain. After we had gotten around the single-tracked portion of the Red Line, one of the girls said:

"Oh my god, this is taking so long, I feel like we're headed to Auschwitz!"

A stunned silence fell over the car as other passengers and I exchanged looks of disbelief. Thankfully, it didn't take us much longer to reach the Adams Morgan stop, where our interns exited the train, off to enjoy the rest of their night and hopefully realize that riding DC public transportation does not in any way compare to the suffering of millions of innocent people.

Heard: What Else is There, Sociology?!

On the Metro, a female intern was talking about how she failed her econ class, and what a disaster it was.

Boy sitting opposite her: Don't you think, maybe, you should have picked a different area of study?

Girl: Well, I mean, what else is there? SOCIOLOGY?! [said with an air of utter disgust]

They then proceed to put their bags down on the seats next to them so that no one can sit down there on a packed bus during morning rush hour.