Some people collect stamps. Others indulge in shoes. I accumulate airport abbreviations. That’s right, aspiring air travelers! I’m in the midst of cobbling together a girl-scout-esque sash to parade around terminals in hopes that it earns me a few extra frequent flier miles or, even better, a free Auntie Annie’s pretzel. In the meantime, however, my mile-high pile of crumpled boarding passes and bag tags will have to suffice.
Welcome to the life of a consultant. Well…not really. First, I’m not technically a consultant. I’m a wannabe consultant, more formally known as a Summer Associate, i.e. an MBA student who is hoping/crossing fingers/knocking on wood that the 10-week internship after First Year goes well enough to result in a full-time offer. Second, the life of a consultant is much more than 5 oz. bottles of shampoo, Starwood status, lightweight luggage, and testy TSA employees. And I’m as serious as SkyMiles.
For the past seven weeks, I have been at Bain & Company, working on a performance improvement case. Although I look, feel, and act like an intern (and get to partake in all the super-fun social activities like the Braves game I’m attending tonight), I’ve never actually been treated like an intern. If anything, my manager has treated me like a full-time employee since day one. When I arrived on the case, he didn’t give me a glorified coloring book, he gave me a discrete and substantial workstream. When met with the partners at the two-week milestone, he wanted me to present my slides. And we hosted a focus group with the client, he expected me to speak up.
Don’t get me wrong – I’ve suffered from several mild panic attacks, computer meltdowns, and can-you-explain-‘answer first’-just-one-more-time moments, but that’s par for the course. The more important takeaway (or “down arrow”), is that I’ve learned more this summer than I ever could have expected, and that is the sign of a great internship.
Who knows what the next three weeks hold. Another late night with Starbucks on my right and PowerPoint on my left? Perhaps. A frantic sprint from terminal A to terminal J on moving walkways in 4-inch heels? Maybe. Delta peanuts for breakfast, lunch, and dinner? Most likely. The good news is - if they are anything like the past seven, I’m in for a wild (and rewarding) ride.
And yes, flight attendants, my seatbelt will be fastened.
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