Well, our shy little intern Bonathon has caused quite a ripple in the intern world. First, he single-handedly shut down one of Dallas’ favorite soul food restaurants, Vern’s. Now he’s got a inbox full of groupies. (Yes, he does.) Today comes a challenge from Josh Storie, an intern at Levenson & Brinker PR. This is all sooo Facebook. Go, Josh:
For right now, my name is Josh. You don’t know me but I’m fully aware of who you are. Stories of your interning escapades have provided more humor for the lovely ladies in the cubicles beside me than anything else since I started interning here at Levenson & Brinker PR. As I’m sure you can tell, this is a pretty happening place. But, nonetheless, the tales of the infamous “Bonathan” have caused three of the women who oversee my imminently important and exceedingly entertaining duties as an intern to dub me with a nickname as well. (Oh, it gets better–flip the page.)
Now, you would think that after working in the cutthroat world of public relations for as long as they have, they would craft a nickname so original and so inspired that it could only come from someone who gets paid to think creatively. I mean after all, there are 25 letters in the alphabet other than J that they could play with. Mosh, Gosh, Posh, JoshKosh B’Gosh. The possibilities are endless. But, instead, they decided on Bonathan. Original right? Apparently they determined that a uniform intern nickname was appropriate. So that has been my name for the last 5 weeks. And I don’t hate it. I’ve actually grown accustom to it. Today my boss, Katie, tried to call me by my real name and after three failed attempts she just went back to Bonathan. It’s just easier that way. Most people in the office still wonder why the girls call me Bonathan since it doesn’t remotely resemble my name at all. But typically those people just smile and nod like someone who pretends to be in on an inside joke but really has no clue what’s going on. But the name has added something different to the everyday grind.
When my first day consisted of learning the ins and outs of the copy machine, researching random factoids and going to the post office to buy stamps so I could mail Katie’s personal packages, I thought I had landed another mindless internship that was just going to act as a resume booster. But as I’ve spent time working here, I’ve actually learned a few things. First, I’ve found that the majority of my college professors wouldn’t recognize the real world if it hit them in the face with a bat. Next, making sure my desk is always stocked with gum so those who sign off on my paycheck can have something to chew on after lunch is a completely indispensable and valuable role. And finally, there can’t be two interns named Bonathan. And that brings me to why I am writing you today.
From what I hear (or read), your bosses seem to like you. And I’m pretty sure mine like me alright as well. But Dallas isn’t big enough for two Bonathans. So I hereby challenge you to a competition to end all competitions. A bout that will decide once and for all who the best intern really is, and who gets to keep the ever-so-coveted title of Bonathan. One on one. Man to man. “Bano a Bano”. Should you choose to accept my challenge, we will compete at the new Tower Athletic Club and Spa where we will be tested on physical prowess, athleticism, mental toughness, ability to perform daily office tasks and overall ballerness.
If you’re not up to the challenge, I understand. I’d probably back down out of pure fear if I were in your spot too. But if you want to determine who the best intern really is by competing in one of the most epic battles since the 2002 Asian Badminton Championships (talk about a nail biter), just know that I am here in my starched Polo and khakis ready to come at you like Angelina Jolie on a foreign baby.
Well, I’ve got to get back to work. I have a list of 137 journalists (who don’t give a flip about what I’m pitching them) that I’ve been told to call.