While I was in the early 20s myself, it seemed my first personal intern (mainly entrusted with transcribing interviews during her free-time) was way younger still. She'd contacted me after I'd visited her college (probably for a guest-lecture, or to judge an event). Those third-rate, Bill Clinton type jokes that followed her impending appointment, over dinner, were in seriously in bad taste, I told my friends: "How can you think/talk like that, boss?" Way out of line, they eventually agreed, as anybody would, in the real world.

Except, when she finally came over (I used to work from home then), while I was unsure if she was even an adult, she told me she was in fact an aspiring actor (she's established herself now). Over the past few months, with her mother always by her side, she had met some filmmakers, looking to cast fresh talents. One of them, a veteran actor-director, she told me, in a jiffy, had jumped her. This, when her mother had left her with him alone, in his living room, having gone to the frickin' loo for a couple of minutes.