The time slot from 12-2:30, one can collectively hear interns in offices across the city hold their breath. Mealtime with the editors is some of the scariest times I’ve ever experienced while interning.

I knew pursuing a career in print would include me paying my dues. Dues that often include picking up samples, doing  tasks around the office, getting coffee and of course getting lunch.

Back when I was interning at Marie Claire, the EIC’s (Editor in Chief) assistant would come into the intern office to ask one of us to get her boss’s lunch order. As small as it is, lunch in the office is a very very big deal. It can show how reliable you are and how you take directions.

I don’t exactly remember the first time I ever went on a lunch run. But recently I screwed up an order.

I was sent over to a  local salad bar to order one salad and one wrap. Overwhelmed by the lunch hour crowd, I hastily order TWO salads. Thankfully though my editor was completely understanding but sent me back so that I could correct her order.

It seems as though a lot of restaurants in the area have to deal with this sort of thing, because when I went back, frustrated and with tears brimming in my eyes, the girl at the counter helped me out. When I thanked her profusely, she told me not to worry about and wished me luck.

Yeah.

It gets that rough.

But I just get nervous because I want to do well.

When I had messed up the order, I felt like I had messed up on something bigger. As time goes on, interns can become go-to’s for certain people. I want so bad to be a go-to for someone and messing up on simple things, like lunch almost makes me feel like I’m out of the running.

After my screwup however, I’ve made it a point to not get anything wrong ever again. So far, I’ve gotten breakfast on multiple occasions and mastered the art of ordering complicated coffee orders with ease. 

It’s all in the hierarchy of paying dues.

And besides leaving the office can do the body good. You’re stuck under gross florescent lightening all day and fresh air an be nice.

When I make my way back up the 38 stories to the office and I take a look around and look at the future that sits so closely in front of me. I try to remember that not a single person in this office got to where they are today without interning.

They look me in the eyes and it’s almost as if a reflection is staring back at them.

It’s mealtime in the office.