OK, OK … DC Bachelor says he needs an intern … aka wingchick. Hey, Bachelor! Thought I was your wingchick?! Oh, I’m gonna start some drama!
OK, OK. Well, I guess we all have the right to hire interns a.k.a. legal slaves. BUT, Bachelor Man – you know that if anyone needs an intern, it’s me.
I am so busy that I cannot even remember when it is time to order my groceries – until Mr. Outlook alerts me. And then I have to schedule a time to order my groceries, using my phone’s alarm as a reminder. An intern could do that.
Here’s my ad:
– Open doors for me, drive me around and buy me flowers.
– Order my groceries (it’s easy, Peapod has pictures)
– Massage my feet, hands and legs
– Make Starbucks runs
– Carry my laptop bag for me (to and from work)
– Walk me home from yoga class
– Make sure the maid comes when she’s supposed to come
– Jog with me, in an effort to make sure that my ipod clippy thing does not fail
– Escort me to events, holding my hand when I see an ex-boyfriend
– Help me turn my fireplace on. This baby is ready to go, but I am afraid to press the button
Looking for someone 18-22 years old. The intern must be male (or female if we can figure out how to make sure our menstrual cycles do not sync up — that would be a total disaster). Fluency in English, Spanish and French preferred (so he can understand me when I am cursing). And candidates that like to pick up dry cleaning win extra bonus points.
COMPENSATION / ROOM & BOARD
The intern must be willing to live with me for two months (he will get his own bedroom and bathroom, of course). I will pay for lunches (since we will be working together). And I will give him money for beer, food or whatever interns need.
What is the educational aspect of this internship you ask? Well – duh! He gets to learn all about me!
QUESTION: Is today’s college student the working slave of tomorrow?