In a season that has already seen one of their number attain Peak Patriotism, Washington, D.C. interns continue to shine like a jewelry box of crazy diamonds that, upon closer inspection, are actually several thousand pieces of confused, translucent plastic.
Today's story comes from an email forwarded to Gawker by a Capitol Hill tipster.
Briefly: An underage congressional intern rolled into work two hours late this morning, "absolutely hammered," "reeking of booze," and vigorously declaring his love for failed vice-presidential candidate Paul Ryan — standard Mitt Romney stuff. After checking in with his supervisors, the intern abruptly ran out of his office to get a jumpstart on stalking Congressman Ryan, left his shoe on the ground to hold his place in a line that didn't exist, and hobbled into a nearby cafeteria to score a breakfast burrito. (He also had a plan for meeting and seducing an unknown hottie in the interim that didn't pan out for him.) When he returned to collect his shoe, it was gone.
And he was fired.
[Note: Paul Ryan's name was blacked-out but still visible in the version of the email mailed to staffers. The intern was not from Ryan's office.]
Sent: Wednesday, July 31, 2013 12:30 PM
To: Tour Coordinators
Subject: The case of the drunk intern and the missing shoe
I’m going to trust everyone with this little tidbit, because I think it might brighten a few days and if anyone saw an intern wandering around with only one shoe on this morning, they have a right to know why. But with great power comes great responsibilities, my fellow listers.
This morning one of my interns (who is under 21) came in about 2 hours late, absolutely hammered, reeking of booze, wearing the same clothes that he had on yesterday. He wandered the legislative area, slurring about how he was in love with [redacted: Paul Ryan] and can’t wait to see *him* at a hearing later today. Further crude conversation ensued that ended only when he abruptly ran out of our office to get in line for the aforementioned hearing (which was in about 3 hours). Allegedly, his plan was to find a “smokeshow” (in the spirit of list-lingo, wasn’t the word he actually used) at the front of the line to flirt with in order to cut and get in.
After an in-office powwow, we realized that no, we weren’t all crazy and yes, he is beyond drunk. My LC went after him before any further damage could be done but he was too late. It seems upon his arrival to the hearing room, our dear intern was the first in line (go figure). Having no one to “save his spot” he simply left one of his shoes there as a place-saver and went down to Longworth for some breakfast. When he returned, breakfast burrito in hand and one shoe on his foot, he discovered that he was indeed still first in the non-existent line, but his poor, abandoned shoe was nowhere to be found. That’s when my LC found him - in a heated discussion with a nearby janitor regarding the whereabouts of his “stolen” shoe.
Needless to say, he was promptly sent home to sleep it off and I’m down an intern for the remainder of the summer (not that I’m crying over it).
*Slow clap for the summer interns*
Slow clap for America.
[Art by Jim Cooke]