I’m pretty sure you didn’t know this, but Friday was my birthday.  And my folks had apparently gotten together with my wife and set up this big party at Dave & Buster’s for me with pool and shuffleboard and the arcade and everything.  I woke up that morning a little early, had some time to read the paper, even hit the fast lane on the way into the office and got a primo spot when I parked.  It was going to be the best birthday ever.

Then I walked through the front door.

It started with Jan.  She had some records she needed me to get from the sub-basement.  Yeah, the one that’s being fumigated for mold or rats or maybe moldy rats.  And Rachel wanted me to read all these articles on some obscure compliance auditing method and write up a digest of each one — before her 10 o’clock meeting to present them to the Corporate Risk Management Committee.  Tom wanted me to put out an ad for actors for some “secret project” he was working on for the end of the month, and Carlotta insisted I fax this giant stack of shipping receipts to her cousin Dino.  When I asked why she got all defensive and told me to just do it (sigh).

It was about four as the last page was going through the fax machine when Phil came up to me with a demand that I get moving on collating the Loblaw report before he had to have it in to the courier in order to make the last overnight pickup.  So I dug in and started collating the pages, stapling, hole-punching, and (at the same time) calling my folks to let them know that I’d maybe be a little late and to start without me.  It was right before five as I was handing Phil the perfectly collated report, he took it from me, and I turned to get my coat and keys that it happened.  ”Hey, where are you going?” he called back after me.  ”I need the metrics calculated for Monday’s staff meeting!”  He held out a folder of papers expectantly.

“But that meeting’s not until 11.  I can do it first thing!  And I have a thing to get to.”

“Whatever.  I don’t want to be worrying about it all weekend.  Just bang it out and text me when it’s done.  C’mon, I’m gonna be late for happy hour at Schnookers.”  He shook the papers in his hand, expecting me to take them.

Unfortunately that’s when I snapped.  I snatched them from his hand and started slapping them on the desk as I walked toward him defiantly.  ”I (smack) will (smack) do (smack) it (smack) on (smack) Monday (smack) morning (smack)!”  And with that, I threw the folder in his face and stomped out.

So of course I got in early this morning and did the metrics and had them ready for Phil on his desk before 8.  I’m honestly not quite sure how the rest of the day is going to go for me.  But it turned out I was right after all — it was the best birthday ever.

So after Vendor Pitch Day last month, I had expected that each  of the department heads would call the vendors whose products weren’t selected for the upcoming year and spill the bad news.  But apparently that gets delegated.  And delegated.  And delegated.  Until finally who’s left to do the dirty business?  Me, the intern.

But I really need this job, and I want to make a good impression so that I’m picked up as an employee at the end of the year, so I decided to smile and gladly agree to do it.  I got the list of vendors and buckled down to make the calls.  I was working my way down the list and most of them were taking it pretty well.  In some cases, I had some latitude to explain why they weren’t selected.  For others, I’d been told just to say they weren’t and leave it at that.  So I plowed through this list of maybe fifty different vendors all of whom were going to get bad news:  The Gunderson Group, Two Nice Guys and a Wrench, Hochuckle and Drim LLC, Quigley and Co., Schmerzkraft GmbH, the whole crowd.  And everything was going fine.  It looked like I’d be able to do the whole list in one day.  That is, until I got to The Bunglefunks.

I called them up and tried to get routed to the salesperson who called.  When I got him, he insisted on bringing into his office the whole team and the champagne they had iced down, since they were expecting the news.  And that took ten minutes.  And I waited.  They finally got everyone there, and though I knew this was going to suck, I did what Tom had told Phil had told Tammy had told Fred had told me to do.

“I have the results of the vendor selection process for Doogleheimer & Schmitt branch 7, fiscal year 2010″  Some scattered and premature applause started up in the background.

“Yes?  And?”

“I’m afraid your product was not selected.”

I heard a champagne cork pop anticlimactically in the background, as well as a collective gasp in the room.  A woman somewhere began sobbing uncontrollably.  And I suddenly realized why this job got delegated to the most junior person in the entire branch.  I was about to spend the rest of my day with the Bunglefunks.

In the end it was like a three-hour group therapy session with a dozen deeply-depressed and angry patients all wielding dull machetes.  The kind of thing for which I had neither training nor any other sort of preparation whatsoever.  But the good news was that I think they made a real breakthrough toward the end, and that with a few more calls like the one we had today, we’ll really be able to get them in a place where they’re ready to start another business relationship.

Now what was I working on before this?