Full City on 13th and Pearl, circa 4 pm Monday, February 25. You: Curly-haired fellow with a Mac laptop, a gold fanny pack and a scowl. Us: One arts editor seeking an intern and one college student seeking an internship, both chatting incessantly and over-caffeinatedly about all manner of faintly internship-related things. What that embarrassed smile I directed at you on the way out meant: Sorry, dude! I could see your scowls but she couldn't. We both felt really bad when you moved to get away from us.