10 Wall Street Intern Commandments
So, I’m not really sure what to write about. Wow, having writers block after three posts, fuck me. SO I’m sitting here, on the plane, thinking over my options. Sports? Eh. Entertainment? Did that already, lets try something new Zach. Wall-Street Interns? Hell yeah. So my brother (shout out Sam, what’s up man!) was kind enough to direct my attention to an email that was leaked by the Wall Street Journal. The email is titled: Welcome to The Jungle (Unreal title), and was sent out last Tuesday. It’s actually a pretty entertaining read and if you don’t believe me I’ve taken the liberty of attaching it.
I don’t know what’s going up with the resolution of this image^. So just click it and you can see exactly what it says.
In the interest of writing enough to fill up this post lets look at this point by point.
- Love it. Absolutely love it. Your image is everything people remember that. My mom has been telling me this since I was 6 that’s why everywhere I look like I just fell out of a Polo catalogue. Oh you’re socks don’t match your tie? Wow, you’re a fucking loser and deserve to be fired. So throw on that bow-tie, style your hair (don’t use too much gel, that’s not high class) and walk in on your first day like you own the place.
- If you can’t handle the heat, get out of the kitchen. C’mon man? You’re better than that. You’re a Wall Street banker. Quote Gordon Gekko or some shit. Like, “What’s worth doing is worth doing for money.” Yeah, I like that, I like that a lot.
- Yeah fuck that. NO way I’d be the last one leaving every night. That’s like asking me to go a week without going to Starbucks once. It’s just not possible. I’m a white girl trapped in an overweight Jew’s body (Shout out Caitlin Jenner).
UH OH! The plane has hit turbulence. I know it’s literally the worst possible thing to think at this moment but the only thing running through my head is that scene in Lost when the plane breaks up and like half the people go flying out the back. Really hoping that does not happen right now. The dude behind me looks eerily similar to Matthew Fox. I don’t know if this is a god or bad thing. Phew, we made it out alive.
- Some boring shit about whom to talk to when you have questions. A real Wall Street intern doesn’t have questions, only answers. Sounds like you hired a bunch of losers.
- Really? This is investment banking? You haven’t made that abundantly clear already. Here I was thinking I was working at Best Buy. With regard to the jacket; yeah, I’ll wear it on the condition you start coming up with catchier rules. I’m here to be entertained.
- Something about mentors? I don’t really know, it’s not really that funny to comment on. I’m really starting to lose interest in writing this, are you enjoying reading it? Yeah, It’s definitely not my best but hey, they can’t all be gold. Like that last post about how to watch Netflix. That was pure gold. Lets get it picked up by Buzz Feed, get my name out there. I try to give the people what they want but sometimes I just have to look at myself and say, “Hey Zach, what do you want?” Thanks for asking. If I’m being honest, I wish I was the only person on this plane. How cool would that be? Still have all the stewardesses here though to cater to my every desire. You know what, I don’t need to be the only person on the plane. Maybe if I was just like the only person in first class. It’d be pretty much like having a private plane, once they close the curtains, I’d be free to do whatever I want. Full Disclaimer: It’s like 11 in the morning and I’ve already had a little bit to drink so I’m feeling some type of way. But hey, I’m on vacation.
- Sorry for going on that little tangent, won’t happen again (it’s totally going to happen again, so get pumped.) Wait what? You want me to sleep under my desk? No thank you! That’s why god created beds. I am a creature of habit. I like my pizza hot, my room cold, and my television turned all the way up. A life of leisure is the life for me. Besides, I can always blog from my bed and with seamless, anything is possible.
- Speaking of seamless, $25 for a food budget? What do you expect me to order, a single egg roll. NO, just no. $25 dollars is what I usually spend on just my appetizers and you expect me to split half of that with my supposed group? Fuck you, I quit.
- A scarf? I get the tie; I mean accidents happen, but a scarf? Who the fuck is working in this office that requires a scarf in the summer in New York City? I see that you are trying to make a joke here because you’re saying that your interns’ clothes are less valuable than yours so if there were a spill or anything you would wipe it up with your tie or the scarf I would just so happen to have. This is where you’re wrong. I wear nothing but cashmere. It’s not a choice it’s a lifestyle. And if you think for one second that I’m going to let you wipe up your spilled diet Shasta with my cashmere scarf than you’ve got another thing coming. This is why I always keep a packet of wet-wipes on me. Don’t believe me? Good, because I was lying.
- Sign out sheets? What is this Middle School? No man tells me where I can go and when I can leave my desk. I’m a lone fucking wolf. Also, I’m not an idiot, and I see the purpose of this is so your employer can look at the sign out sheet at the end of your internship and say, “Oh wow! Zachary went to the bathroom 43 times last Thursday. No way we’re giving him a full time job offer.” Well my lack of bladder control is none of your business. Besides, I’ve been bending the rules since before I can remember. Once in high school I created a fake email address with my moms name and I’d email myself in late almost every day. I put that shit on my resume because you know what that shows, it shows I search for outside the box solutions to complex problems. Hire me, Barclays.
You know why I love this email. Because this dude thinks he’s the shit, like just the king of the world. Oh you work for Barclays? Oh you think you make so much money? I know plenty of people who make just as much, if not more than you, (shout out Sam again, buy me a new phone already!) and have a way better life. But hey, if you want to keep being someone’s bitch well into your early 40’s than you’ve found the career for you!
Have fun never seeing your kids, never being able to take luxury vacations and really enjoy your wealth. I’m now sitting in a house on a private beach in Hawaii, but that cubicle does sound awfully enticing. And enjoy losing half your money that you worked so hard for in the eventual divorce because you’re an absentee parent. But when you’re sitting up late at night, about to tuck yourself into your comfy cubicle, make sure to not look at Facebook. Unless of course you want to see pictures of your now ex-wife sitting on what used to be your yacht in the Caribbean somewhere with her new boy toy, Raul.