As the semester comes to an end, I’d like to share my extravagant summer plans with you, my loyal reader (hi Mom). While my fellow biology majors are jetting off to internships or conducting research, I’ll be doing something arguably more important, asking: “Would you like fries with that?” for the third year in a row.
The unfortunate truth
Because I don’t have more than 27 certificates to my name or a personal recommendation from Meredith Grey, the healthcare industry is a tough nut to crack. If I were to somehow land an interview, they’d probably say, “Best we can do is let you look at the hospital from the parking lot and think about medicine.”
So, instead of scrubs and a stethoscope, I’ll be wearing a blue apron and visor all summer long. Welcome to my summer internship at Culver’s.
The bright side
Sure, I won’t be finding a cure to a disease or assisting a surgeon in a clinic, but at the end of the day, isn’t healthcare about making people feel better? If you were to ask me, nothing heals the soul quite like a ButterBurger and Dr Pepper. A surgeon could probably save your life, but do they know how to make a concrete mixer in seconds? Just saying.
Maybe it’s a good thing that I haven’t yet acquired a job in the healthcare field. After all, I have the Culver’s menu memorized, but don’t know a single thing about HIPPO. Or wait, is it HIPAA? Either way, I’m pretty sure the Privacy Act covers me if I tell your personal trainer how many pints you ordered while “on a diet.”
The great descent
If you see me this summer, don’t ask me about my “four-year plan.” I don’t even have a four-minute plan. (Unless it’s 10:56 p.m. and I get off at 11:00 p.m., in which case I have a very detailed plan involving pajamas and snoring). Just pull forward to the white line and your order will be out shortly.
Overall, be careful how you interact with your trusty fast food employees. Over the summer I’m just a girl who may forget your napkins, but in ten years I could be the person holding your charts. I have a very good memory and never forget a face — especially one that yells at me for a burger being too expensive, which is entirely out of my control by the way. (I’m looking at you, Karen.)
Jokes aside (kind of)
That being said … I know I write for humor and it’s all extremely unserious, but if you know someone who knows a guy who once looked at a doctor, send them my way. I would like a job. Truly.
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