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From Negeen Pegahi, Design Intern and Ping Pong Player Extraordinaire:

I had the pleasure of taking Econ 215, The World Economy, with Professor Sabot (who doubles as Tripod's Chairman of the Board) last semester at Williams. Along with many zany things like exchange rate arbitrage and the debt crisis, I learned quite a bit about this company. I think it was a lecture on American innovation and the Silicon Valley (with its East Coast counterpart, the Berkshire Valley) that really got me thinking about trying to get a summer internship here, so I decided to humor myself and send in a résumé.

I didn't hear anything and so assumed they'd gotten a good laugh from my (lack of) qualifications and forgotten all about me. Then, maybe a month later, I got a call for an interview, which ended up being a very low-key chill session with current boss-lady Mags. I soon found myself hired as the new Design Intern. Yesss.

I went home to city of all cities — Washington, D.C. — for a few weeks to do the filial piety thing, then headed back up to the sprawling metropolis of Williamstown (population 8,000; 6,000 in the summer when most of the students aren't here) to begin the jobby job. My first two mornings went a little something like this: "Hey Negeen, here's your new computer. Why don't you start by putting it together." Okay, thinks I. So that was day one. Day two begins with a big Fed Ex box o' software that I install and get to play with for the rest of the day. What's all this Dilbert-esque whining about? Work is great! (Note: I actually do do work here. It's just enjoyable and thus doesn't seem like work. Unless, of course, it happens to be a day when the Evil Matty Quann is tormenting me with nav bars and header gifs — but he's a fellow bread-lover, so it's all good.)

Let me just insert a paragraph here about ping pong. I've mostly made my mark here by competing at table tennis (hopefully, that's not a reflection of my design ability). I'm fairly decent, and I think the tech boyz, who had long reigned supreme, are plotting my death. An interesting development though: it turns out that my boss-lady's husband, Dave (a.k.a. Le Pongiste), was all-Quebec as a young lad. After a few drinks last night, she let slip that his goal du jour (or d'ete, as it were) is to kick my sorry que by the end of the summer. I was a little worried at first, but I've re-affected my usual bad-ass attitude. Yeah, there's a new pongiste in (Williams)town, and it looks like a show-down's a-brewin' on ole Water Street... Heh heh heh.

If I hadn't stayed in Williamstown, I would've either gone to Taiwan with the State Department (I speak a mean Mandarin) or home to D.C. for a summer gig with the CIA (I kid you not, though if you tell anyone I'll have to kill you.) See, I've always harbored dreams of being either a very high-level government agent or a very accomplished criminal. (Perfect case of extremes meeting, eh?) My life of crime is off to a successful start, at least. I recently went to the movies with some of the ladies from work (I shan't name names lest the North Adams police are avid Letters From Tripod fans), and before going into the theater, we got some candy out of the self-serve bins in the lobby. We were late for the movie so my companions, deciding the line was moving too slowly, just walked into the theatre — candy and all. I, horrified at the actions of these two Yale grads (tsk tsk, Uncle Ivy would be so not proud), stood there conspicuously for a few seconds trying to decide what to do. Oh, the peer pressure. I went in as well. The shame.

So, in summary, I am the new Design Intern at Tripod. I get paid to learn, have fun, play ping pong, and hone my criminal skillz. (Disclaimer: Tripod doesn't support the views expressed in, and is in no way responsible for the contents of, these letters.) Negeen "she used to be such a good kid" Pegahi, at your service.

Sorry Mom.

— The Unusual Suspect (7/11/97)

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Read more "Letters from Tripod" in the archive.

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