A Former Intern Gives Advice on How to Be the Perfect Weiner Intern
Like any strung-out millennial, I can admit to myself that I, at several points in my career, have held the title of "intern" (an unpaid intern in certain cases, to say the least). I've interned for the menswear magazine GQ, the blog-magazine hybrid Newsweek/DailyBeast and, of course, here at the Voice, providing content for our calendar section. With those three publications under my expanding post-grad belt, I, like many of those in certain skill areas that consider themselves "specialists" after experiencing a sample size of three, can safely call myself an "intern buff." So when the news came that mayoral hopeful Anthony Weiner's campaign was seeking a social media intern, my buffness (real word? Who knows!) in a dismal field finally gained some sort of relevance.
Replacing the old with the new.
Attention, Weiner intern prospects: It's time to gloss that Twitter handle and portfolio to impress the adults. Here's how.
1. Keep in mind the situation at all times.
We are all aware of what's going on here: You're applying to be an aide in social media for a politician whose arch-nemesis is the Internet. This is Anthony Weiner we're talking about, a former representative who was brought down by the same devices you're putting on a pedestal. You know the story. Everyone knows the story.
To stress this point, never forget that the main message of your portfolio/resume should always be "Mr. Weiner, I'm here to help." Be the savior you want to be. Like, "I'll make sure your Twitter's running smoothly again; I'll keep the dick pics away from Instagram (FYI: Kelvin filter for the win!); I'll maintain a Facebook presence that breathes, not exhumes, Anthony Weiner; and, hey, maybe I'll even provide some treats for voters on Pinterest.
2. Leave the puns aside. But don't totally rule out the puns.
This can be tricky. By now, we've heard them all: "Weiner Rising," "Weiner's in Your Face," "City Hall Needs Its Weiner," etc. Yeah, they're funny--we can all admit that to our inner children--but you aspire to work for the man who was cursed/blessed with this surname.
As we all know, there's an enormous line between seriousness and humor. Tread wisely. But there's also a heavy risk of coming off as a dull robot who thinks the Big Bang Theory is the best comedy on television since Frasier. Don't commit that horror to yourself. In your cover letter, you can have a little fun with your wordplay. For example, maybe replace "I'm the best candidate for this position" to "I think I have skills necessary to be underneath Weiner at all times."
When else are you going to have this opportunity for innuendo? Probably never.
3. Make sure your life is all-Weiner-everything.
According to the original New York Post story on the internship, the listing states that applicants must be "enthusiastic about electing Anthony Weiner as the new Mayor of NYC." Luckily, in real life, that's easy: if you manage to score an interview, write down a few one-liners about Christine Quinn, Bill de Blasio, Joe Lhota and the rest of the pack on your hand so you're ready to sling 'em as they come up in conversation. Also, make it clear that you were by his side since the beginning, not skipping a beat when the sexting scandal was uncovered (or when he admitted to a few more girls being involved). You always believed in Weiner and him becoming mayor is basically a Disney princess story coming true.
However, on the Web, that's a little harder. If necessary, rummage through your tweets or Facebook statuses and delete anything you might've posted about Weiner that cast him in a bad light. One would think that an applicant for this job wouldn't have to do that but, hey, who knows how you were acting two years ago. And, almost immediately after sending in your application, start tweeting your ass off with Weiner praise. A little hashtag (#weinerwins, #iwantweiner, #weiner4mayor) never hurt anyone. Neither has an Instagram selfie of you wearing a shirt with Weiner's face on it. If you're gonna commit 15+ hours to this man every week, as the listing demands, you better act like you want to possibly give up your Saturdays at the beach.
4. Oh, and I guess know the facts.
You can be his social media savior. You can drop a pun here or there. You can worship Weiner like a God (but please, don't be too kiss-ass). But all of this will fall flat on its face if you don't know what the hell you're talking about with regards to actual policy.
Argue that Weiner's negotiable approach to the teachers' union is better than neglecting them entirely. Call Quinn 'not progressive enough' or whatever criticism she's hearing that day. Like your prospective boss, say 'save the middle class' twenty times a minute. Defend stop-and-frisk but don't come off as Ray Kelly Lite. And if you want to memorize "Keys to the City" - Weiner's policy booklet and campaign slogan - go for it. If you're gonna have to tweet for this guy, make sure you know what you're talking about.
And that's mostly it. Hopefully, these tips and sentiments land you the position or, at the very least, a callback. If nothing proliferates, well, maybe you should blame yourself for not loving Weiner more. And, if you're ready to go, send your applications to firstname.lastname@example.org and get crackin'.
Send your tips on the mayoral race to email@example.com. Follow his tweets here.