Bob versus the Interns (Part I)

In information technology, especially in an academic setting, nothing is really impossible if you have vision, ambition, determination, and an inexhaustible supply of cheap intern labor.  Student interns are the blood in the cardiovascular system of SITG.  It is an unspoken truth that without interns, absolutely no work would get done.  Ever.

Furthermore, the interns represent an important social and psychological element of the group.  They keep things lively and amusing, providing a fresh opinion and a youthful outlook on the world.  And even though they often make even the youngest members of our group feel old, they are special and friendly and fun, and it’s hard to imagine work without them.

Because the interns don’t work full time, and are almost always excused from staff meetings, they didn’t immediately catch on to Bob and his antics.  Except for Jason, most of the interns remained blissfully ignorant, and thought of Bob as nothing more than an older, fatter, slightly stranger version of us.  But eventually, even the interns, exposed to Bob on only a part time basis, began to realize that he was not a swell person to have around.

At first, Bob was as oblivious of the interns as they were of him.  In another stunning example of his managerial prowess, Bob never even bothered to learn the names of the interns, and always avoided all interaction with them.  Sometimes I felt like Bob made a special point of not knowing anything about the interns, almost intentionally mispronouncing their names and demonstrating a surprising lack of understanding about their job functions.  It’s as if he fancied himself too important to deal with such peons.

In a meeting with the uber-boss, the question of budgetary expenditure was raised, and Bob let it be known that he didn’t know anything about the interns, as a result of which he couldn’t account for, in any coherent fashion, their monthly salaries.  The uber-boss, rightfully, I might add, threatened to cut Bob’s intern budget.  And Bob understood that a decreased budget meant decreased status, so he promised to get to know the interns and thus justify their existence and salaries.

Formal meetings are the only way that Bob knows how to interact with people.  Maybe he has such rotten luck with women because he can’t arrange to have the date in a somber conference room under harsh fluorescent lighting.  So, soon after his meeting with the uber-boss, Bob scheduled a meeting with the interns.  Staff presence was encouraged, but optional.  We all showed up for the entertainment value.

Bob kicked off the meeting with a long speech chastising the interns for their inconsistent schedules.  He told them that we are a nine-to-five shop, and emphasized the importance of coming in early, and leaving late.  The irony was almost too much to bear.  The interns stared at Bob with blank expressions, until Jason intervened.

“We work part time,” he said, without much emotion.
“So what? You should still be here on time,” Bob insisted.
“I am here on time.  On time for me is 2pm.”
“On time is 9am. Everyone has to be here at 9am.”
“Not me.  I have class in the morning, and I only work in the afternoons.”
“We can’t pay you for the hours that you don’t work here!”
“You don’t,” Jason said, while the other interns nodded. “We get paid hourly.”
“Oh. Ok. Well, nobody told me that,” Bob said as he shot an angry look at Nick, and then another one at me.

The part time nature of their employment made clear, Bob moved on to discuss all the fun things that the interns do at work, and how they should stop doing them immediately.  Bob suddenly became the evil dad from Footloose, a persona that suited him quite well.

“Stop having such loud conversations, stop playing such loud music, turn off your cell phones, stop browsing Facebook,” he stopped to take a breath.
“And no dancing either,” Nick said with a smirk.
“And you have to stop enabling them,” he said to Nick with another frightfully serious look.
“Don’t bring your girlfriends over, don’t call your girlfriends, not here, not on company time.”  Another deep breath, and, “we are not paying you to have fun.  You are here to work, and I don’t want to see anyone slacking off.”

He was the stereotypical pointy-haired boss, and completely unabashed by it.  The interns, however, were the picture of apathy.  This wasn’t their career.  Without the fun perks, this wasn’t even a very good job.  And their expressions were the epitome of not giving a shit.  I was impressed.  But Bob didn’t notice, and was quite pleased with himself.  Staff dismissed.