How did she make it so far in life?

Last spring I had the good fortune of doing a week-long work experience at the big ad agency in Soho, London: Bartle Bogle Hegarty (BBH). During my brief time there, I had a work experience colleague, in her final year of 6th form, who was... for lack of better words, dim-witted. And as we know, the dim-witted can be source of laughter and entertainment for the slightly sharper-witted.

Now, this workplace is already maxed out with brilliance. The dress-code is so laid back, I saw employees wearing 'distressed' jeans - but never without a fashionable turn up at the hem, paired with honey-oak colored Oxfords and a patterned button-up T-shirt. Free breakfast is served every day until 9:30, and Tuesdays and Thursdays are very special: bagel breakfast day. There's a free and fully equipped coffee and tea bar, complete with charming baristas, open all working day. Yoga classes are held in the mornings for those who are apt to waking up and starting their days a little earlier than the rest of us humans, and the running club meets every Wednesday to make everyone else feel guilty for eating so many free bagels. Thankfully, the office is armed with showers, for the runners and yogis, and bike racks are strewn throughout the various levels of the office for the more ambitious and athletic commuters.

But the true delights I was blessed with for those short five days, were Gemma's less than intelligent remarks, that were equal parts irritating, exasperating, amusing, and bemusing.

Being from Las Vegas and having just returned from spring break, my skin still had that sunny glow of a hundred desert adventures, which my poor colleague mistook as a fake tan. While I'm used to being asked if my tan is artificial, this particular instance was a little more perplexing seeing as I had just finished explaining to Gemma that my home is in the Mojave Desert and I spent the break hiking.

But this was not the most disconcerting comment.

"Is Vegas, like, a desert?"

Upon replying that it is indeed 'like, in a desert', Gemma asked, "Oh, so does it get hot there?" I couldn't discern if this was a reflection of her intelligence - because there are such things as cold deserts, in fact, Antarctica is almost entirely desert - or if she just genuinely didn't understand that Vegas (featured in several movies, I might mention) is one of the more commonly hot deserts.

That, along with, "are there pigeons in Vegas?" just about did me in, but I still had another four days of wonderful comedic material.

You know when you meet someone and everything they do and say and embody just restores your faith in humanity and your hope for our future? Well this particular encounter had the opposite effect - one I would describe as unease with a tinge of panic.

Throughout the week I grew accustomed to hearing questions on how to perform simple, menial tasks such as: how to refresh email, how to send an email, how to crop a picture. I'll admit I lost my composure a little when she asked how to take a screenshot on the work computer she was assigned.

"I don't know, Gemma, I don't have a Mac."

"Oh, you don't have a Mac?"

Incredible, I thought, as I examined her face. She looks so real. I waved my hands, gesturing towards my Samsung Chromebook laptop.

"No, I don't have a Mac."

We went out to lunch at Five Guys one day, and as I dug my hand into the barrel of peanuts she declared that she'd always thought they were for decoration. Unsurprising.

Upon finding out that my stepmum is Mexican, Gemma kindly asked if she therefore speaks Mexican.

We were enlisted to help research obscure European content creators on YouTube by one of the teams in the office. While my geographical knowledge of the confusing mess that is Eastern Europe and former USSR states was seriously tested, Gemma encountered a world-shattering trial. I would hear her mutter questions - either to herself or to me, I wasn't paying much attention by this time.

"South Korea... that's not in Europe, is it?"

"Is Serbia part of Europe?"

"Oh right, Egypt's not in Europe..."

On our last day together, Gemma and I decided to go to one of the chic bars in the area to mark the end of our work experience week. While walking through the familiar smoke-clouded cobble streets of Soho in search of an acceptably cheap(er) pub that wasn't packed with men in suits with slick hair and shiny new watches, she imparted these final gems to me.

"I have really bad asthma, but it was so much worse when I used to smoke.. I don't know why."

And, finally:

"I really want to, like, get into beer because it's so cool to drink, but I don't like it."

***

I hope this puts your mind at ease. You should never think you are the smartest person in the room, because that's just poor manners. But you will never fear being the dumbest person in the room, with people like Gemma out there. 

I'm grateful to have spent a week knee-deep in frustration, to come out with such precious anecdotes, of which the star is not my own stupidity, for once. So, let's enjoy this feeling. Knowing we'd have to try hard to be as dense as dear old Gemma, and if you are, then there's only one way you can go...

and it ain't down.

(Pseudonyms were used in this piece for the safety and dignity of others.)