An American in Europe
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06 October
Va va va Bloomberg
Four blinking computer screens sit in front of me, scrolling tickers and flashing news.
They are my world.
Click "read more" to learn about my world.
In this world, news stories are written in three minutes. Headlines, in seconds. Success is measured by tenths of seconds.
If I look up, I see a large tank, full of tropical fish. Swimming around in a neon bluish haven and blissfully unaware OF the chaos that surrounds me.
More than 100 reporters fill the two-football-fields-sized room, churning out news from all over Europe on the Bloomberg. On a flat screen to my right plays CNN. To my left are screens with Bloomberg Broadcast News and the BBC.
At any moment, I can tell what time it is in New York, London or Tokyo, by glancing at the large yellow letters decorating the windows.
Hello New York - it's 13:38 your time.
Separating the print news section from tech support is a four-story, glassed-in space. Neon walkways cross it.
And that's only the third floor.
London is headquarters for all of Europe and Africa. On the ground floor are five large broadcast studios, surrounded by almost 20 smaller ones, churning out news in eight languages. (I think. I've lost count.)
We have an enormous kitchen full of free fruits and goodies. The non-alcoholic drink bar makes one giddy. So many drinks -- so little time. There's a nurse. Free medicines in the bathrooms. Screens. Lights. Security. Escalators. Artwork in the center of every floor. T.V. screens embedded in arm rests. Stock tickers overhead, underfoot. Sit on the toilet, and listen to how the pound stacks up against the dollar.
Bloomberg carved into the walls. Bloomberg on the plates and napkins.
And lots and lots of tropical fish.
I've been in the office for more than 10 hours now, and I won't be going home soon. You see, I just got a news request from Paris to send a bit of news out on the Bloomberg.
Except, I don't speak French, so I can't write a headline for it. So I'm forced to dumbly wait, while someone writes it for me. Yesterday, I forwarded a press release to Germany, asking for help. I was told the release was Dutch. Oops.
Beginning next week, I'll work from 6 a.m. until 6 p.m. Bloomberg will send a driver to pick me up, because I'll have to leave home before the tube opens.
For the next ten weeks, this will be my schizophenic, sensory-overloaded home.
Join the mantra, "You're either in front of a Bloomberg, or behind."
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