The intern stopped in the doorway with a back turned to the audience and stood there for a moment, head hung low as if to find written on the floor the right words to say.  But then, the back arched, the shoulders pushed their way back, the chin came up, and the intern turned to face the GBO.

“You know, for the last year I’ve worked diligently to follow through with every assignment you’ve given me.  Each of those times my goal has been to exceed each and every one of your expectations.

Each one of those tasks was generally a cause I could support.  I can get behind reducing childhood obesity, or getting people to stop smoking.”

The intern paced the office while consulting some notes scratched out on the notepad in the leather-bound portfolio.

“So what seems to be the problem?”  Inquired the manager.

This time, the scoff came from the presenting intern.  “Three hours ago, I honestly thought you were pulling our leg.  Here, look at this.”  The intern rifled through the pages on the notepad to those taken earlier in the morning, and found the one note that summarized the young intern’s take away from that meeting.  It said:  “WHY DOES THIS IDIOT GLASS BOX OCCUPANT WANT US TO FIND A WAY TO GET PEOPLE TO WEIGH THEIR SHIT?!?!?!?”

“Excuse me?  Glass Box Occupant?  Exactly what are you getting at?” demanded the manager.

“Tell you what.”  The intern gestured at the first intern.  “You have one idea which involves getting Government further and deeper into the manufacture of toilets, of all things.  Toilets!  Even worse is that the rights and desires of the American people to a modicum of privacy and respect from the Government doesn’t seem to matter one iota.

On the other hand,” the second intern got the gesture this time, “you have a grand exercise in subterfuge to get the people to do what you want them to do under the banner that it’s an effort to achieve a perfect level of wellness.

You have two perfect solutions for getting the most private of information from the American people.  You can either take it by full force of the law or you can get it by those who would gladly give it to you.

There’s only one other alternative to the question at hand.”

“…..and what would that alternative be?” seethed the manager.

“Seriously? You don’t know?”  The intern had become indignant at this point.  “The NID goes out of its way in order to get young, creative, non-complacent types to do your bidding for the greater good, and you don’t know?

You’ve spent the last year demanding that we think out of the box when carrying out assignments, and you don’t know?”

“Evidently not.”  Replied the manager.  “Why don’t you enlight–”

“There’s no need for the government to know how much shit comes out of the average American’s butt!” screamed the intern.  “The mere fact that this assignment comes from further up the ladder and you felt the need to accept the assignment instead of calling attention to its absurdity speaks volumes to me on whether you should be the one bossing me around.”

The glass had just been tapped.

“Fine.”  The manager responded.  “I have all of your ideas.  I’ll consider them and let you know my decision in a few hours.  Go to lunch.  Meet back in here at 1 pm.”  With that, the laptop, the notepad in the leather-bound portfolio, and the smart phone exited the office and went with their owners back to their cubicles.

By the time 1 pm arrived, the glass box sat empty.  The administrative assistant to the manager occupied a cubicle right outside of the office and knew there should have been people in there at that time.  Curiosity in the mind of the assistant had been peaked because the intern’s yelling from earlier had perked up some ears in the office.  People were nosy, and the assistant was among them.

So much so, that the temptation to tap into the boss’s email to see if anything had transpired electronically in the last hour or so was more than overwhelming.

The first email landed in the boss’s in-box within minutes of everyone going their separate way for lunch.  It had been typed up on the laptop:

With all due respect, I believe the time has come for me to end my internship with the New Initiative Division effective immediately.  The premise of capturing personal data from the American people under intrusive means is one I could never support or condone.  Frankly, I’m ashamed I even hatched and presented the plan.

Best regards……

The assistant read on through the inbox for any other downstream impacts of the meeting from earlier.  One appeared from intern who had screamed at the boss earlier.  There was no text in the body of the email, just a short message in the subject line which said:

I’ve placed a letter of resignation in a confidential envelope in your office (EON)

Strange, the assistant thought.  The intern had managed to sneak in and out of the manager’s office without being noticed.

As the assistant continue to read through the inbox looking for a note from the third intern, a familiar buzzing sounded from behind.  Just as it completed, the voice of the manager broke the silence.  “What are you doing?”

“Oh!”  The assistant had been caught snooping.  The manager knew this but didn’t seem to mind.  The cellphone tucked away in a pocket vibrated again to announce a text message.  The manager pulled it out and found that the buzzing was a message for the smart phone wielding intern:

Effective immediately, I am tendering my resignation from the NID.  I should have known better than to create a plan to make people weigh their bowel movements.

–sent from my smart phone

“Well there you go.  Now you’ll need to shepherd another group of interns.”

“I know,” said the boss.  “One of these days, an intern will give me something other than one of the same three answers that I’ve heard for years.  Frankly, I’d be happy if they would just stick around long enough to learn that it was just a creativity exercise.”