one lunch with google later…
I had one job to do. My “take-away” from my lunch at google was, according to my supervisor, to steal something. Anything, as long as it was good. And as long as it fits in my bag? No, he’d get me a cab if it came down to it.
Seth had all sorts of ideas for google swag to swipe. Among my favorites:
yeah, see if you can get a google lunchbox
google handlebars
google screwdriver (phillips)
google parachute
google storm drain
google syrup
google strawberry shortcake
google ‘the game of life’
google inkwell
google inflatable mattress
google screenwriter’s guild
google ship and anchor
google limitless graph paper
google swimming turtle
google salty apple
I got increasingly nervous about lunching with google, while Andy got increasingly nervous that I wouldn’t bring him back a tchotchke (thanks for clearing up the spelling on that one, dictionary.com’s Word of the Day). I called my dad, who said I was probably suffering from “imposter syndrome,” but after a bit more information just suggested I don’t act like a google groupie while I’m in the building.
Doing my best to appear calm, I wandered the floors and limitless kitchens of google, supped at their cafeteria, and chatted up my rep– pretending it was no big thang. The offices were pretty much how you’d think, actually, except that people weren’t running around giving high-fives saying “remember how we work for google! how cool is that?!” as I would have imagined. Upon exiting googleland, the guys on the elevator from a different company figured I worked there and said, “it must be pretty cool working for google.” Yeah, must be. Calm down, groupie.
It wasn’t until I left the premises entirely and was back in the part of the city that is not transported by Razor scooters that I realized I never got anything for Andy.
