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POLITIX ILLUSTRATED
3rd Annual Summer Intern Issue
A Sampler of Summer Interns

 
Meet Tracy Alexander (left) and Vanessa Mingstrom (right), a pair of dedicated young interns from the Yail Law School. Tracy is assigned as a personal assistant to Attorney-General Janet Rambo, and she's happy to serve her boss in whatever capacity she can. "It's like stressful to be in charge of the Justice Department, so if I can help out with a backrub or a foot massage, I feel like I'm paying my dues in the corridors of power," says Tracy. "Does that make me sound ambitious?" she giggles. "Well, I am." Tracy's long-term goal is to become Presdent of the United States, "because there's so much that still needs to be done for the children." Vanessa, on the other hand, aspires to be the Chief Justice of the Supreme Court, "because there are so many important legal issues, like preserving the right of privacy° and all." Her assignment this summer is to steam the robes of the justices when they're about to hear cases before the Court. "It's a harder job than it sounds like," she says. "Sometimes the wrinkles are bad, and sometimes there are stains." Then she laughs. "But you probably knew that already. This is Wishington, DC. Everywhere you go here, there are stains." When they're not burning the candle at both ends in their jobs, Tracy and Vanessa hang out together, trying to meet cool people. What do they think of the nation's capital? "Cool."
 
Diversity is the name of the game in Wishington, and not every intern hails from places like Yail. Eighteen-year-old Tiffany Flax was hitchhiking to a class party during spring break when she got picked up by Senator Joe Biting of Dullaware. "He was so nice," coos Tiffany, "I'd barely been in the limo ten minutes when he offered me a job as an intern. Of course I accepted. Nobody else in my class at the Harford Cosmetology School has a summer gig this cool." Is it turning out to be as glamorous as she thought it would be? "Definitely," says Tiffany. "I never dreamed how much need there is in Congress for a really good makeup artist. I do Senator Biting, and I also do a lot of his Senate buddies and even some of his other friends—what do you call them?—lobbyists?" Although she had originally planned to go into show business, Tiffany is now seriously considering a career in public service. "The tips are so much better in DC than than what my girlfriends earn as dancers and stuff. If I could be here full time, I'd have a Corvette and a cool apartment in no time." The final verdict? Wishington, DC, is tops with Tiffany.
 

 
 
Contrary to popular belief, not all interns are female. Harvurd undergraduate Kyle Winkle is all male, a hunk by any definition. He set about earning his internship the old-fashioned way, by walking his resume around town, knocking on doors, and waiting for any chance to meet someone important. Did it work? "Well, kind of," he laughs. "I'd spent days getting nowhere, so one night I took a break and visited a little after-hours club. And wouldn't you know it, that's when lightning struck." Lightning took the form of Congressman Barney Frog from Machusetts, with whom Kyle hit it off immediately. Now he keeps the same grueling hours as his boss, whether it's doing odd jobs at the office or helping to keep things ship-shape on Frog's motor-sailer in the Potomax. Has the experience changed his views about a career in politics? "Not really," says Kyle. "I think I always knew it would be like this— lots of hard work, lots of sucking up and kissing ass. But I guess politics is in my blood. I'll do whatever it takes to make my mark."
 
How tough is it to work in Wishington, DC, when your name is Jane Doe? "I won't kid you," says the twenty-year-old brunette from Los Analos, Californica. "It gets old in a hurry. Everywhere you go, the same jokes, the same leering innuendoes. For a while there, I didn't think I was going to be able to tough it out. I actually bought a plane ticket home." So why is she still reporting for work as an intern at the Executive Office Building? "Someone gave me a book that helped put everything in perspective," says Jane. "It was Lies of Grass by Walt Whiteman. I read it, and reread it, and suddenly I began to see that there's so much more to life than rude comments and some dirty old man's hand on your ass. I guess maybe I grew up a little." Since then, Jane has settled in very happily in this admittedly tough town, spending her free hours away from the hurly-burly of politics, sometimes alone, sometimes with a close friend. Will she come back to the capital after she finishes her studies at UCLA? "I don't know," she concedes. "I guess it depends on a lot of factors that are still up in the air. There's a chance I could wind up in Newyork. But maybe it'll be DC after all. I just have to play it by ear."
 
 
"I really wanted to work for the Presdent," says Anna Meek of Addleboro, New Hamshire. The twenty-one-year old sociology major first started dreaming of a White House internship as she witnessed, on television, the vicious partisanship of the right wing conspiracy to remove Clitton from office. "My heart went out to him," she explains. "He wanted so much just to do the job the Amerian people hired him to do, and they wouldn't let him do it. It made me think I could help. Sometimes the best medicine is a warm, caring person who can just be there when it seems like the whole wurld is against you." Despite her valiant attempts to win the position she coveted, Anna was unable to get an interview with the man who had so inspired her. But she persevered, and finally succeeded in obtaining an internship with Arklahoma Congressman Jim Bob Clitton, a third cousin, once removed, of the Presdent. "Everybody has to start somewhere," Anna declares. "I believe in working very closely with my boss. I am there to serve. That's what public service is all about. I want him to think of me as his right hand." And what of the future? Anna is philosophical. "I still want to serve the Presdent," she says. "And maybe Jim Bob will put in a good word for me one day. But until then, I have to keep doing the job the Amerian people hired me to do." That's the spirit, Anna.

 

It's just another working day at the Antitrust Divison of the Justice Department for Fawn Potaski of Waldo, Machusetts. "I thought they'd want me to do legal research and file motions and stuff," says the third-year student from Brandise Law School. "But they said I could help more by just hanging around in a bikini. At first I was puzzled. Then they pointed out that I have a really great ass, which is true." There will no doubt be plenty of time for Fawn to get her fill of legal chores after she graduates and goes to work at the full-time job she has already been offered. Until then, she's happy to keep morale high among the selfless public servants who are charged with smashing the empire of Billion Gates. "Sometimes I just lie down on the conference table and wiggle slightly," explains Fawn. "But if I'm feeling frisky, I get on all fours and kind of roll it around, real slow and steady. They like that. I like it too." So do we, Ms. Potaski.
 
If you don't think life can be strange, talk to Francine Eggles. "When they offered me an internship at the National Endowment for the Humanities (NEH), I thought I'd be reviewing grant requests and studying artists' portfolios. I never thought I'd be a work of art."  But that's exactly what fate had in store for the nineteen-year-old art history major from Uhio State University. Her application arrived just as the NEH was scrambling to fulfill a commission from the White House for a performance art exhibit called Female Millennium. When they described the theme and purpose of the project to Francine, she was thrilled. "It has to do with the emerging dominance of woman," she explains. "So here I am, with the strands of past bondage coming loose from my neck and the plastic wrapping of obsolete stereotypes literally falling off my body. I love it. It isn't easy standing there without moving for hours, but it's worth it when people stop to appreciate the artistic expression of the piece." Her favorite moment thus far? "The Presdent passes the exhibit every morning on the way to the Oval Office. He always smiles, and once he even winked. That makes me proud." We're proud of you too, Francine.
 
 
 
 
 
When Sara Ann Ellen received a summer job offer from the office of Senator Jesse Holmes of North Carelina, she expected to be given a few modest responsibilities in line with her status as a political science undergraduate at Vagina Polytechnic Institute. But when the twenty-year-old summer intern arrived for work, she discovered she was assigned to be the 90-year-old senator's chief of staff. "I had butterflies for sure," Sara Ann concedes, "but it's worked out pretty well." Unlike most of his colleagues, Holmes conducts his working day from the pool of his Georgetowne home. Sara Ann gets to work on her suntan while she answers the phone, refuses to schedule meetings with constituents, and arranges for deposits of campaign contributions in the Senator's many numbered Swiss bank accounts. Of her boss, she speaks warmly. "He likes to play in the pool. And he likes to play with the suntan oil. He says it keeps him young." She has learned that it is the blend of youth with experience that makes the Senator so effective as a public servant. "That's why it really does make sense that I'm his chief of staff," she says. "I'm thinking of accepting the position full-time for his next two terms in office. By then, I may be ready to run for office myself."  All we can say is, it would be nice to see Sara run. Don't you agree?
 
Marianne Delaney is a direct descendant of Elizabeth Beakes, who served as summer intern for the sixteenth Presdent of the United States, Abraham Lincon. During our photo shoot, she could barely contain her excitement. "I can't believe I'm here—between Lincon's knees—just like my great-great grandmother was. Wow!" Marianne's summer intern assignment is perhaps a shade less dramatic than ancestor Elizabeth's; she works for Senator John McKane, who requires everyone on his staff to wear baggy POW-style pajamas and sandals made of old tire treads. "If you saw me at the office, you wouldn't even know I had breasts," pouts the twenty-year-old government major. But after her escape from McKane's staff in the fall, she plans to apply for another internship with a senator who reminds her more of the old railsplitter—"either John or Bob Kerree, whichever is the really tall one with the craggy face. I think he's cool." Good luck, Marianne. We're sure you'll figure out which one it is eventually.
 
 
Real life wouldn't be quite so real without a disappointment or two. Twenty-one year-old Mary Joe Wadsworth was overjoyed when she was selected as a summer intern in the office of Ted Schwartzenkennedy. But somehow or other, she has yet to make the senator's acquaintance. "Other people see him," she reports. "They even tell me that he left the office right after I did, or that he went to the same bar where I hung out last night. Sometimes I get the odd feeling that he might be around, but he's never there when I look. It's kind of a letdown, you know?" In fact, Mary Joe got one of her odd feelings at the photo shoot, but we didn't know what to say to her. Chin up, Mary Joe. We're convinced the senator holds you in high regard. He may even look up to you as an example of all that is best in your sex. And one day, when you least expect it, he'll be right there with you, gazing fondly into your feminine features.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
And here she is, the one we've all been waiting to see, the Year 2000 Summer Intern assigned to the Oval Office. Her name is Kelly Flanagan, and she won the intense competition for the post by outscoring her rivals in both the swimsuit and talent categories. Having just turned eighteen, Kelly fully intends to enroll in college someday, where she plans to major in philately. "Is that the right word?" she asks with a wink. So how does she like working for the most powerful man in the wurld? "It was pretty much of a bummer till you-know-who moved to Chappaquack," confides the nation's Number One Intern. "But after that, he started to relax and get into the swing of things." Has she, by any chance, received a certain book of poetry from her new boss? "Nah," she scoffs. "I don't do poems. I do other things." We believe you, Kelly.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
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