INSTANT STUPEFICATION

Kids these days.

I could just let this go. Only, where would it go? It would just circulate in my brain like a funnel cloud until it gathered enough velocity and debris to explode my head like a doublewide trailer.

So bear with me while I slowly release the pressure valve instead.

I mentioned yesterday that we have the greatest intern in the world: smart as a whip, hard-working, eager to learn, polite as hell. God, is she polite. When she has a question, for example, she doesn't stand up in her cubicle and shout across the room, which is what I generally do; she gets up, walks to your desk, quietly waits until you look up, and says, "Excuse me, I have a question." Often she'll say, "Sorry, I have a question." Sorry. Can you believe that? And it's not timidity; it's civility. And it's catching. People act better around her. She raises the bar. I don't know how many times I've heard co-workers lament that they accidentally said the F-word in front of S or they sullied her ears with some piece of workplace cynicism or negativity. And the laments are not in the spirit of her innocence needing protection but of their attitudes needing correction.

Contrast what I observed yesterday with some other novices around the office — all student interns or recent grads. First up, at an office meeting a recent male grad is talking to a female intern. This male worker usually prefers to wire himself up to his iPod and not talk to anyone, but this female intern is very blonde and slender with an assortment of feminine charms. (It's been quite amusing to watch male staff members who are normally quite oblivious to etiquette line up to pay court with predictable blandishments like "I'd be happy to show you around" and "Don't hesitate if you need anything...") So this male worker and the female intern are discussing some mutual professional acquaintance, and the female says, "I learned so much from her." And the male, in an apparent attempt to display his virility, says, "Yeah, she's hot." The female laughs politely but with a hint of discomfort that the male, even if he lived a thousand years, would never pick up on. He thinks he has advanced in her estimation, while every woman in the room sees that he has been silently and permanently checked off her list.

That exchange is all wrong on many levels, but most of all it's unprofessional. Here's a tip for the gentlemen, young and old: Women are uncomfortable when you physically assess them or other women in the workplace. It makes them feel like your primary response to a woman is her fuckability. Is she hot or is she not? And when you excuse this behavior as something that all men do, it makes women feel even worse, because then there is a sense that all the men in the workplace are comparing notes, like during their downtime they are all participating in some Fantasy Female Harem League. Everyone feels attractions to various people; that's hardly new and hardly exclusive to men. Do us a favor and keep a lid on it at work.

One thing I like about S, the great intern, is that her curiosity and interest in our workplace doesn't come off as "networking." She's polite to me because she's a polite person, not because she thinks it'll get her somewhere. Compare the student intern who has the fake smile complete with an on-off switch, whose habitual standard is "good-enough," not "my best," whose "thank-yous" and "pleases," when proffered at all, ooze with self-serving insincerity, who has such an excess of cockiness from being the Big Man on Campus that he struts around the newsroom like a banty rooster, talking loudly and confidently and "expertly," a complete stranger to humility and quiet proof. Yesterday he was joined in his folly by an intern from the same school who brashly announced that she hoped to "get into a big market someday, but, hey, you gotta start at the bottom" — the bottom referring to the workplace of the seasoned professionals who were gracious enough to hire her.

Later in the evening I had to ask these two and another of their kind to turn down the volume on their childish conversation so that people doing work could work. They seemed genuinely surprised that there was even anyone else in the room — and then somewhat astonished that their riveting discussion was not well-received.

And then even later, when the banty rooster failed to perform an essential duty, I was forced to call his cell phone and was greeted by some ridiculously saccharin voice-mail message. As I expressed my annoyance at not being able to reach him, the recent male grad, who is a friend of his, said, "I'll send him an instant message for you. He'll respond to that."

Of course. An instant message. Why didn't I instantly think of that?

I said "Kids these days," but that's a cliche. S is a kid and she's supremely gracious. So, if not youth, what is at the root of all this brashness and "me-ness"? Are some people just like that? Will they smooth out with age? How deep does this shallowness go?