Former Daily Show correspondent Lauren Weedman (pictured) recently wrote about her experiences working at the Daily Show for the Seattle Stranger. Surprise — it's just as crappy as any other job:

This morning, Stephanie had told me something something something, turn right, then left. But every right turn runs me into a bagel buffet or cold-cereal kitchenette and every left turn takes me into someone's secret mini Butterfingers stash or a bowl of brownies. The building is like a giant feedbag. I'm really lost. It's 4:05. Sh**. I'm going to have to go back up to my office and start again. Why don't I just ask someone where it is? Why am I suddenly shy? I see a guy coming out of the writers' room by himself—he seems safe. "Hello," I call out. "You can just say 'hi.' You don't have to be ironic about it," he says and walks away.

After the jump, an awkward moment with Jon Stewart.

One month later, I'm back in the executive producer's office.

"Okay, I don't want to freak you out," she is saying. "I want to help you. Here's the deal: You need to get Jon to like you."

"I wasn't aware that he didn't," I respond, in an unemotional, I-could-care-less-about-this-job, it's-a-walk-in-the-park tone.

She continues: "Somehow he's getting the impression that you could care less about the job. He feels like you're treating this whole thing like it's a walk in the park. Like you could take it or leave it. And we all like you, but we need him to like you, too, so—"

Just then someone opens her office door. It's Jon, sticking his head in.

The executive producer's voice goes up a few octaves.

"Hey, Jon, come on in! I was just talking to Lauren about how excited we are to have her as a part of the show. Just telling her to try to relax and have fun."

Jon nods his head and very politely says, "Yeah. Good. Listen, can I talk to you when you're done with Lauren?"

I jump to my feet, put my hands on my hips, pinch my nipples, and say, "I just want to please you. Do I please you, Jon? Do I?"

Jon looks at the executive producer and seems like he's about to say something. Since he doesn't laugh, I figure I'd better start dancing like Shirley MacLaine—as fast as I can.