It has come to my attention that this city is now crawling with summer interns. It doesn’t bother me so much, because I don’t generally ride the metro down near the Capitol so there are relatively few lost young’ns on my commute.

The first encounter I had with interns was mere steps from my desk at work. We have five or so, working in one room that is conveniently situated very close to my cube (I have the ultimate location, sandwiched between the boss and the interns…). And boy are they a chatty bunch.

Now, I never really interned, but I did spend a good amount of time working as a filing-and-data-entry minion at my mom’s office. And I was always petrified of the quiet in that building. I was worried about breathing too loudly, so I considered it kind of audacious to loudly chat it up with other people. I just put my headphones in and went to work on my filing. Real exciting stuff.

But now that I’ve become aware of the intern invasion in the streets and restaurants and bars of DC, I’m worried about one thing in particular:

I really hope I’m not mistaken for an intern

I have one very strong advantage in this effort, and that is that on any given day the interns in this city are much better dressed than I am (need I reiterate, I wear jeans to work). But I frequently get mistaken for a high school student, even though I’m a college graduate and in my 20’s.

Just last weekend I was out to dinner with my parents in a small town whose high school had just held graduation. The waitress asked me, trying to be nice and congratulatory, if I had just graduated. When I replied, “From college… over a year ago,” she was a combination of shocked and embarrassed and recovered with, “Well bless your heart honey, you look so young!”

Thanks, lady.

I just don’t want to be mistaken for a member of the group that is mercilessly exploited for our entertainment on this DC Interns blog, where people post instances of intern sightings and overheard conversations.