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The Spokesman-Review Newspaper
Spokane, Washington  Est. May 19, 1883

Pizza Intern is all of us, in our overworked, awkward and hungry glory

The Hallway Pizza by &pizza, named in honor of the unidentified person eating a pizza from &pizza outside the Michael Cohen hearing at the Rayburn House Office Building Wednesday in Washington. (Matt McClain / Washington Post)
By Tim Carman Washington Post

Up on Capitol Hill, the president’s former fixer testified before the House Oversight and Reform Committee on Wednesday. Michael Cohen talked about hush money to cover up a liaison with an adult-film star. He talked about a president who manipulates his estimated wealth to suit his purposes. He talked about a Trump Tower meeting with a Russian lawyer. He called the president a racist, a liar and a con man. It was dirty stuff, coming from the mouth of a man considered equally dirty by President Donald Trump’s allies.

Then there was Pizza Intern.

During a live report of Cohen’s testimony outside the committee room, CBS political correspondent Ed O’Keefe was photobombed by an unwitting man with a hunger so large that it had no boundaries – or situational awareness, like the student who tried to squeeze by Sen. Kirsten Gillibrand to fetch some ranch dressing. The still-unidentified man is seen digging into what looks like a rectangular box of &pizza. He takes a big, ravenous bite, and before he can even savor the slice, he turns his head hard left, with an expression that is the textbook definition of “deer in the headlights.” It would appear that the someone, maybe a CBS producer, told the man he was an unwanted background diner in O’Keefe’s report.

The man, quickly dubbed the Pizza Intern for his naivete, became an instant online celebrity. Some called him, with both admiration and hyperbole, a “hero” and a “legend.” The tweet sent by Mike Uehlein – who describes himself as a “PR and comms pro” – has been viewed more than 1.6 million times in the hours since Uehlein posted the five-second clip from a flat-screen TV:

“tfw you go to eat your hallway pizza and get told you’re in the live shot”

The Twitter responses to Pizza Intern’s hallway repast ranged widely. Some consider him some kind of wonk-class hero. Others view him as an object of pity. They want to fill his empty, overworked world with all the pizza he can stuff into his face.

&pizza, an East Coast chain whose slice the Pizza Intern inhales like a last meal, has embraced the internet’s latest instant celeb. The company has already developed a Hallway Pizza, a pie with a decidedly spicy bent. There’s even a GoFundMe campaign page, started by someone named Calvin Billien but posted under &pizza, which has already raised $165 (at the time of this story) to keep the Pizza Intern buried in pies. The Washington Post verified with &pizza that this is indeed the company’s GoFundMe campaign.

The fundraising campaign is part of &pizza’s ongoing efforts to capitalize on Pizza Intern. The company has changed its Twitter avatar to the Pizza Intern and has been tweeting out various memes under the #hallwaypizza hashtag. It’s further confirmation that, in Washington, there is no viral moment that cannot be turned into a marketing opportunity:

“You asked, we answered: The official “Hallway Pizza” is available in shops today!”

- &pizza

“Always bring the essentials. You never know what’ll happen.”

- &pizza”

“Love at first bite?”

- &pizza”

The Pizza Intern’s appeal is not hard to understand. He’s not a hero. He’s not a hard-luck case in need of a fundraising campaign. He’s just another Capitol Hill worker who puts in long hours and doesn’t have a moment to sit down and eat a proper meal. But more than that, he’s a symbol of something vulnerable - a real hunger captured on camera in all its youthful awkwardness — in the middle of this ruthless, inhumane era in which we Americans find ourselves. The Pizza Intern is the lost puppy we all want to save.

The Pizza Intern is us.