Illustration by Luci Gutiérrez

I have wanted to be a White House intern ever since November 8, 2016. That night, my younger sister looked up at me and said, “What are we going to do, Katniss?” and I got out my computer, made a user name and password, uploaded my high-school transcript, and turned to her and said, “Go see if Peeta has any thread and old bread sacks, because I’m going to need business-casual clothes. And a recording device.”

My name may be familiar to you. That’s because it sounds like the very common name Katherine. I’m from District 12, a poor area. I didn’t have a dad growing up, so I’m in need of a father figure with strong values, preferably one who takes frequent naps in the vicinity of executive orders awaiting signatures.

I have been interested in politics since I saw the television news graphic under the state of Florida that said “Leaning.” I am passionate about issues like education and the location of White House cameras.

You’ll notice from my transcript that I was captain of my archery team, which means I have leadership experience, and I would be able to deliver messages to Republican leaders on the Hill without leaving the White House lawn. I am also effective at data entry. Another unique skill, which I included on my C.V., is data deletion, with a special emphasis on the names and addresses of citizens of District 12 who are at risk of deportation.

I have a lot of practical skills, too. I can get coffee. I can put cups of coffee without lids on the top of slightly ajar doors. I have good upper-body strength. I can carry takeout boxes, arrange bagel spreads, and peel bananas. I can dispose of those peels in a pile on the floor.

I can make copies. I can fix the copy machine if, for instance, it starts printing exclusively the word “RESIST” in 345-point type. But I want to be honest in my application and admit that I don’t have a lot of experience with sound systems, so I would not be able to explain why “Lemonade” might play on repeat during White House briefings.

One of my strengths is managing internal Microsoft Word documents. You may not know this, but “great” and “gay” both start with “g,” and “Make America Gay Again” is a common, perfectly innocent typo that could appear on White House e-mail blasts, T-shirts, and caps. This is the kind of real-world knowledge I would bring to the internship.

I had to manage household tasks when I was growing up, and I wouldn’t mind doing the same as an intern. I can put “Caution: Wet Floor” signs yards away from a puddle. I can put “Caution: Wet Floor” signs on the desk of the climate-change denier Scott Pruitt. I can put two “Caution: Wet Floor” signs face down at the top of a set of stairs where White House employees might slip and slide down into a delegation from the Organization for Incarcerating Flag Burners.

I know that White House interns often face unusual challenges. For example, when every tweet from the President, regardless of content, starts to include “#StandwithStandingRock” and “#WaterIsLife.” Or when holes leading to mysterious tunnels appear in the White House lawn. Or when a very real-looking, vaguely familiar Susan B. Anthony apparition prevents senior staff from sleeping, with her pained moans and dramatic readings of the American Equal Rights Association newsletter The Revolution. I would stay calm in these situations, because I’m a person who gets things done, and I don’t believe in ghosts.

No task is too small. I can keep track of office recycling. I can push around the wheeled industrial trash can, collecting the trash from all the smaller bins. I can get a running start and let go of the industrial trash can so it knocks into Strategist Bannon, and he falls inside head first and rolls all the way into a copy room, which I would lock in order to reduce theft and waste of office supplies in my capacity as White House intern.

I hope to learn more about Vice-President-elect Pence’s homosexuality-conversion-therapy technique. Does it involve electroshock? Would Vice-President-elect Pence be able to arrange for a demonstration at an off-site location? I hope to get as much as I can out of this important opportunity.

I’m pleased that soon the manufacturing jobs will be coming back to District 12. I’m looking forward to finding out what, exactly, we will be making. In thanks, I will be bringing a special gift of District 12 squirrel meat to my interview, along with this mockingjay pin, which would look best on your lapel, close to your mouth as you are speaking.

Thank you for your consideration. ♦