“Not my experience, but pretty horrific nonetheless. I was in NYC for a few days, and being that there are no convenient public bathrooms in Times Square, the good people at Charmin had seized upon this opportunity and rented some space on the second floor of a building where they installed a couple dozen premium port-a-johns. People were lined up down the stairs waiting to take a shitpiss, and between uses, each stall was quickly cleaned up by one of many early college-aged marketing interns at Charmin … One had been assigned the task of wearing the Charmin Bear suit and bouncing around jovially, taking pictures with kids like they were at an excrement theme park. Hopefully it dissuaded some of them from a career in marketing.” —LanceCoolie
“I was interning at a Sports physical therapy place for a project in high school. Basically, all I did was A) laundry and B) put towels on the benches.
Except for the one day I was asked to massage this woman’s swollen, bulging, red, cherry-stained post-surgery kneecap while the therapist “ran to get ice.” Did he run to Antarctica or what, because I was forced to massage that lady’s kneecap for like… 15 minutes, all the while hearing “I just don’t know why it’s so swollen” over. And over. And over.” — DiverGuy