I met Monica Getz, Hile Design’s copywriter, at a presentation she gave to my advertising class at the University of Michigan last semester. I was the sole English major floating in a sea of unenthusiastic communication and marketing drones with zero interest in the creative aspects of advertising copy. When she informed us that she was a copywriter (not a copyrighter, as my professor had previously told us) and a former English major at U of M, I perked up from the deflated late-afternoon nap I had grown accustomed to and experienced a spark of energy from the potential relevance the class now held for my life and future career.

A graduation ceremony combined with a two-month back-and-forth email correspondence finally got me an interview. I was brutally grilled in the darkened conference cave by the hotheaded Dave Hile and ice-cold Monica Getz about how I would contribute anything other than a waste of time to their company. Though I don’t really remember what actually happened due to blacking out from fear and stress (but appearing to remain conscious and functional—a skill I learned while dealing with project and term paper deadlines at U of M), it appears I somehow convinced them to keep me around.

Day one, while sitting at my (shared) desk as an (un)paid intern, Dave army-crawled from his office to my area and tied my shoelaces together. As I stood up to embark on finding the restroom (that no one would direct me to), I struck the ground fast and hard. In a daze, I saw Bob, Hile’s Director of Online Technology, approaching me. I met Bob last semester too, as he also came to speak to my class while plagued with swine flu and a sharp disdain for people in general that day. His presentation didn’t inspire the same (false) hope I left with after listening to and speaking with Monica. But I digress—getting back to Bob, I thought he was coming to help me up, perhaps in return for appreciation that I was the only person to ask questions during his “presentation.” He did show me where the bathroom was … but he dragged me there by my hair and then gave me a noogy, repeating something like a dark Gregorian chant with the words, “Welcome to Hile, now go make me some coffee.” I got back to my desk, and Art, Hile’s web programmer, came over to give me my new company email address, UMhotshotLoser@hiledesign.com. My computer also mysteriously crashed an hour later and has yet to recover. Art blames me.

(The above story is completely fictitious. But recently liberated from strict college paper guidelines, I took the suggestion of writing a blog post about my time here as far as I saw fit.)

So here’s the real story. My time here as an intern at Hile has been fantastic. Hile has given me a foot in the door to an industry that I didn’t really know how to approach, and I can’t thank them enough for going out on a limb and trusting my writing skills. Everyone in the office is friendly and willing to answer my potentially obvious and/or annoying questions, and even in my first week I have already gained valuable insight and portfolio work that I never could have received in school. I have never had a “real” job before, or rather, one that put my academic skills to use, and it’s exciting to be in an environment where I get to finally utilize them. I’m very much looking forward to future work and getting to know the company, and yes, maybe even eking out a minimum wage.