Welcome back to Intern Horrors, the weekly feature wherein the lowest of the workforce low air grievances or have grievances aired against them. This week, dealing with legends, joyriding on a motorized Razr scooter, and working a car to death.
We will start this week off with a mystery round. Anonymous:
I work in TV so I've worked with a fair share of celebrities ranging from Kimbo Slice to Regis Philbin. To be honest, out of the 50+ celebs I've worked with, all of them have been nothing but great with one exception. I'll call her T. Banks. No, that's too obvious, Tyra B.
Anyway, so I'm working on this one show, it's just for two days. I spent the first day prepping the dressing rooms. I was really excited to hear that we had an NBA Hall of Famer and another celeb who was a HUGE NBA fan, and not one of those "I got to a Laker game" fans, a true, die-hard fan. The second day I get in early and finish off their dressing rooms. The NBA HOF'er arrives and the celeb follows shortly. They immediately talk basketball and what Lebron will do. I join in and have a great time talking basketball with them. The HOF'er then asks who the third dressing room is for. I tell him it's Jake Fakeman, and he decides to trash the room, to pull a prank. I hesitate and he says "He ain't no asshole, he'll love it!"
I point out that we spent all day getting them ready, meanwhile he dumps the basket of goodies that we made up for all the celebs. It took us about 2 hours to make the baskets, it took him 2 seconds to dump it all. Fakeman specifically requested certain drinks and the celeb is stealing them all and putting them in his fridge. I watch in dejection. and the HOF'er points at the couch and says "flip it over!" I flip it out as the celeb giggles like a school girl. The goodies are everywhere, the fridge is empty and the couch is flipped and the cushions are in the HOF'ers room. As he walks out, the HOF'er puts his arm around me, laughs and says "do NOT put the room back together.
Fakeman arrives and my boss walks him to the dressing room as I begin to wonder what my next career will be. My boss gives me the death look as I motion with my eyes that it was the HOF'er, who has locked himself in his dressing room with the celeb. Fakeman just has a confused look and gives me a funny look. The HOF'er and celeb run out and they have a great laugh as I ponder if they will still put my name in the credits. Everything gets smoothed over and it's all ok.
The show didn't get picked up, is anyone out there hiring? I am great a destroying rooms against my will.
Can you guess the identities of the three principals — hall of famer, huge fan, Jake Fakeman — in this story? I'll spill the beans at the end of the post. Or maybe somewhere in the middle. You'll just have to read it all.
Just kidding. It was Charles Barkley, Spike Lee, and K-Ville funnyman Anthony Anderson. No idea what show this was on though. Probably Mythbusters.
Dave chimes in with a story about getting away with minor-league property damage:
Back in the summer of 2004, I interned with a summer league baseball team in a farily competitive wooden bat league mostly made up of MAC and Big Ten players. Part of our college requirement was to do an internship after our junior year of college, so my friends and I chose this team because it was close and we got paid for it (which is fairly unheard of).
Our boss, the team owner, was your stereotypical old guy, jerk boss. He rarely remembered our names, ordered us around like indentured servants and basically thought everything we did should've been done the opposite way. One game-day, we were having a promotion that involved several items donated by area businesses being given away. The "big ticket item" was a two-wheel motorized scooter.
Since we hated our boss and we were immature, a-hole college kids, we had little regard for this stuff. So I decided to ride the scooter around before he got there. I was approaching a curb and instead of
slowing down, I decided to try to ramp it. Obviously, these scooters aren't meant for tricks and I crashed, sending me over the handlebars and unattaching said handlebars from the scooter, not to mention scratching it up everywhere.
We were down to about a half hour before he was scheduled to arrive and I was preparing to be fired. Luckily, one of the other interns was finally able to put the scooter back together, with minutes to spare, so it would start, at least (the accelerator was on the handlebars). I was worried he would see all the scratches, so I leaned it against the fence on the good side and prayed he wouldn't notice. Lucky for me, the guy is not very detail-oriented, so he never noticed and someone went home with a banged up scooter.
Finally, Jeff has a tale about what happens at technology wholesalers in the South:
Back in the mid 90's, I was in college at a state university in the south. A huge one, but not an SEC school. My senior year, I had an internship in a big city nearby. I was an IT major and really still unsure of what that meant. Computer stuff, that's all I knew...
Anyway, so I get this internship gig. As it turns out, I was a general labor and "webmaster" for an "IT" wholesaler. They bought and sold huge lots of tech gear, like 10 pallets of PC's or 100 pallets of network cards. My job would range from using a heat gun to remove bar code stickers from thousands of boxes leaving blisters and burns all over my bare hands to taking deliveries to our "secret" warehouse down in the ghetto (where we also had a ghetto forklift that we bought at an auction that I had to figure out how to operate on my own). More often than not though, I was their beer and cigarette's lackey. Good times...
My delivery vehicle was a late 80's Dodge Caravan thing. Burgundy with sweet sweet wood paneling on the sides. One "delivery" that I made was a trip from Tennessee to Chicago... One of those critical things. About quitting time one day they gave me a $100 bill and said take these two PC's to chicago and have them there before 7AM.
My crowning achievement at this very illustrious employer was this: One day the boss (let's call him Paul) yells at me to take this pallet of PC's down to the warehouse. Being the grateful Quasimodo that I was, I rushed the pallet from our penthouse office down to the van. I load out, drive down to the ghetto, slinking in my seat so as to avoid being made out as the wrong kinda guy in totally the wrong place, and drop the stuff off.
On the way back to the office, the van is really acting up, shifting funny, check engine light on and seems generally unhappy. I get back to the office, and Paul if really seething about how long it took me. He commands me back down to the warehouse for some other something-er-other. I tried several times to tell him there was something wrong with the van, to which with I was met "GET BACK IN THE VAN AND GET BACK TO THE WAREHOUSE!!!!!!". Okey Dokie I say to myself... I get back in the van and head for the warehouse.
My normal route to the ghetto involved the interstate. The van was still running funny and didn't want to shift. I made it once again to the warehouse, made my pick-up, then headed back. I was foot-to-the-floor on the interstate, probably doing 60mph in 2nd gear because it wouldn't up-shift. Poor girl lasted for probably five miles or so before (presumably) throwing a rod.
A loud boom followed by the most horrendous clacking and banging I've ever heard (to this day). Throttle still to the floor, van slows to a crawl. Throttle to the floor all the way back, a HUGE cloud of smoke behind me, I clankered into the parking lot. Went back to the penthouse, and told Paul "I think something may be wrong with the van". A few minutes later, I go to leave for the day. When I get off the elevator, I see the van it's sitting there surrounded by a huge puddle of oil and antfreeze, smoking like a forest fire. That night, I hear from another guy at the company how angry Paul is, talking about suing me, etc... The next day, I hauled in my loaner PC, went to the penthouse, and sat it next to the elevator as they looked at me from down the hall with angry/puzzled faces. I ran back to my car, and never looked back.
Has a celebrity ever asked you to trash something? Have you ever damaged donated prizes? Ruined a car? Maybe you just had a bad experience while interning or having an intern? Whatever it is, send in your stories. Subject line: Intern Horrors.