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You can’t help believing when you flick through the pages of a glossy that the life of the interviewer must be a cool one. How glam to take lunch with the starlets or chat on the phone to the who’s who of the art/music world? Wouldn’t it be interesting to learn about the nitty-gritty of their lives? Well yes. And no.

It’s always fun to talk, talking’s easy. Transcribing hours of recorded conversations, not so much. Luckily most interviewers have a little lackey who can sit diligently and play-rewind-type, play-rewind-type… At BAZAAR it appears I’ve nominated myself. Not that I’m really complaining, after all, I get to hear the voices of celebs I’ve pined for and others I’ve longed to live the life of. I’m behind the scenes and in on the goss (pity I can’t tell anyone until the issue makes the newsstand)…But, oh how my little ears ache.

To passers-by I must look the picture, squinting into the computer screen and straining my ears to hear muted conversations and muffled answers. In another setting they would surely provide me with a laxative and tell me to take a load off…

Play-rewind, play-rewind, click. If only the recorder showed the time, not knowing how much longer the interview goes for is perhaps the most torturous part of the process. Once done the sense of accomplishment is wondrous. But, like so many of the little tasks I undertake as Intern, no one else seems to quite appreciate my elation at a job well done. They’re waiting for the writer to make it all pretty I suppose…