CNET - On the first day I was sent home
Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, I have a wonderful, almost unbelievable, story to tell. It involves Chinese food, blood, talking, and being sent home early from my first day of work. Here goes...
So, as I've stated all along, I've been hired by CNET.com for the summer as a intern; the deal is I'm being trained to acquire a job within the company next year (if all turns out well on my part). This was my first day.
I arrive at their offices on 28th street in the morning. I meet the IT guy, and he sets me up with my own computer, work phone, desk, ect. I'm also greeted by countless other individuals; I was given the tour; I told where to get the free coffee and 25 cent soda; the orientation sort-of-thing. So, my first task was working on the Home Electronics newsletter, splicing and adding and cutting text, constructing a headline--very similar to wait I did at the Times Union. Now, it was lunch time (around 2 in the afternoon).
We all (my editor, david, and two other co-workers) go to to this high-end Chinese restaurant across the street from the building. I order sweet and sour chicken. As I'm eating my food (a little too sweet and not enough sourness), talking to everybody there, I feel something dribbling down my lip. I wipe it and see blood.
I hastily excuse myself and run to the bathroom, holding my palm to my nose as a stream of blood drips through my fingers and onto my shirt. I'm in the bathroom for nearly--I'd say, about 40 minutes--trying to clot the bleeding. I put my head back. I pitched my nose. I stuffed tissues inside my nostrils. Finally, after dripping blood all over the bathroom floor and then cleaning it up, I managed to clean my face up. My shirt, however, was stained; I appeared like I cut my face or something. I was a mess and had no extra shirt available to wear.
So, David knocks on the door and asks me if I was okay. I was, but I was very embarrassed. I walked outside covered in dry blood to see him. He was understandable though and let me go home early; it was almost 3 o'clock by this time. I kept apologizing to him, and he kept saying I couldn't avoid it.
Another dilemma: I had to go back to the office, on the 10th floor, to retrieve my bag. As I passed two security desks on my way, everyone was asking if I was okay, what happened, and David exclaimed that everything was all right. I left the building, hugging my bag, hiding the stain, my ears burning, and went straight home to my apartment in Bushwick. I'm still working for CNET (thankfully), but what bad luck I have on the very first day of every job I've had.
The list:
2 years ago, working at the NY Daily News, a kid barfed on me while on my way to work. I had to go home but was paid for a full day.
six months ago, working at the Times Union, I got myself stuck in the front lobby, having no pass card at the time, and had to call my manager, Tom, to get someone to let me out.
And yet, after every instance, I was told I did a splendid job after finishing the term.
So, as I've stated all along, I've been hired by CNET.com for the summer as a intern; the deal is I'm being trained to acquire a job within the company next year (if all turns out well on my part). This was my first day.
I arrive at their offices on 28th street in the morning. I meet the IT guy, and he sets me up with my own computer, work phone, desk, ect. I'm also greeted by countless other individuals; I was given the tour; I told where to get the free coffee and 25 cent soda; the orientation sort-of-thing. So, my first task was working on the Home Electronics newsletter, splicing and adding and cutting text, constructing a headline--very similar to wait I did at the Times Union. Now, it was lunch time (around 2 in the afternoon).
We all (my editor, david, and two other co-workers) go to to this high-end Chinese restaurant across the street from the building. I order sweet and sour chicken. As I'm eating my food (a little too sweet and not enough sourness), talking to everybody there, I feel something dribbling down my lip. I wipe it and see blood.
I hastily excuse myself and run to the bathroom, holding my palm to my nose as a stream of blood drips through my fingers and onto my shirt. I'm in the bathroom for nearly--I'd say, about 40 minutes--trying to clot the bleeding. I put my head back. I pitched my nose. I stuffed tissues inside my nostrils. Finally, after dripping blood all over the bathroom floor and then cleaning it up, I managed to clean my face up. My shirt, however, was stained; I appeared like I cut my face or something. I was a mess and had no extra shirt available to wear.
So, David knocks on the door and asks me if I was okay. I was, but I was very embarrassed. I walked outside covered in dry blood to see him. He was understandable though and let me go home early; it was almost 3 o'clock by this time. I kept apologizing to him, and he kept saying I couldn't avoid it.
Another dilemma: I had to go back to the office, on the 10th floor, to retrieve my bag. As I passed two security desks on my way, everyone was asking if I was okay, what happened, and David exclaimed that everything was all right. I left the building, hugging my bag, hiding the stain, my ears burning, and went straight home to my apartment in Bushwick. I'm still working for CNET (thankfully), but what bad luck I have on the very first day of every job I've had.
The list:
2 years ago, working at the NY Daily News, a kid barfed on me while on my way to work. I had to go home but was paid for a full day.
six months ago, working at the Times Union, I got myself stuck in the front lobby, having no pass card at the time, and had to call my manager, Tom, to get someone to let me out.
And yet, after every instance, I was told I did a splendid job after finishing the term.