THERE IS NO COINCIDENCE THAT NYMAG RHYMES WITH SWAG.
Day three of my internship. From my apartment, I walk three blocks up, then three blocks right, and one block left to the C train, which is really finicky and hasn’t gotten the memo that it is no longer 1987 and air conditioning is, indeed, a thing. I get off the train, the AM NY lady yells at me to take a paper so I do, I mill through a dozen food carts, try to cross the street without getting hit, and boom: One Hudson Square. I have a little ID thing that means something to someone so I flash it and I am ushered in, crowded into an elevator with TV screens above the floor buttons, displaying the weather and “What’s Happened Since You’ve Been at Work” news. After four floors, I emerge, and I am greeted, intimidatingly but not frighteningly, proud but not loud, by a large wall with “New York” written out in a fancy script.
Then I walk to my desk and I have nothing to do.
Just kidding, mostly. I spend most of my time accidentally walking into people’s offices when I think it’s the hallway to the bathroom. As an intern, my tasks aren’t delineated, so, for the first day, I tried not to throw up all the coffee I compulsively drank and read back issues. With each passing day, my tasks get more important. The first day I made 800 copies (this is not a joke), the second day I went out and harassed people about their feet (in the magazine world, this is called ‘polling’), and today, I have, thus far, looked at cat photos, called a cemetery, and volunteered to transcribe an interview solely because I liked the writer’s glasses. Generally, though, I have been looking for “gadgets,” or little factoids, and things to go onto the Approval Matrix (http://nymag.com/anniversary/40th/50673/ like that one, for example. That is just an example of a matrix, not the one I am working on. Got it?)
The magazine world is really weird but pretty cool; for instance, everyone doesn’t eat lunch until 1:30, and by that point I have eaten half of my dress. I don’t get out of work until 6, which, in real life, I am finished with dinner. Secondly, I keep wearing dresses to work even though everyone else wears jeans. I hate dresses. Third, there is a bomb-ass Keurig in the coffee room. Get it. Fourth(ly?), all the shaded glass windows I thought were mere design choices are actually the important offices and prevent people from looking in them and getting secret magazine info. Like, I said: swag. Fifth, I brought leftover pad thai for lunch so I’m excited.
To be succinct: I like it.