Memory #12: Lunch at “The Spot”

At the end of my final summer on the Great Point (tear), I left Cape Cod and moved back up to Boston to start my first “real” job as a graphic designer for a company called Neoscape.  I was pretty psyched to have landed a full-time gig right after graduating from college—the economy was much more promising in 2006—but I was also a little nervous. I was coming off 5 summers of hanging out on a boat all day with some of my favorite people, partying at the Irish house, spending all my days off at the beach on Nantucket…and now I was supposed to sit in an office? All day? With a bunch of “working professionals”? Lord give me strength…

Someone up there must have heard my prayers though, because when I got to work on my first day it was nothing like the scary office-land that I had imagined. On that first day, and in the 3 years that followed, I met some of the most fun, creative, inspiring, talented, hilarious, and generally just outstanding people in the world (or at least in my world). We all became instant best friends and  were so inseparable that we even took our lunch break together as a group—almost every single day (in addition to going out for scorpion bowls and to blue grass night at The Cantab after work).

Every once in a while we switched it up, but for the most part, during lunch hour you could find us down at “The Spot”, aka, the lawn of the John Joseph Moakley Federal Courthouse, which was perfectly situated right on Boston Harbor and featured panoramic views of the entire city. We spent many-a-lunch hours on that lawn, eating, laughing, sunbathing, and having the best conversations—and the best time—ever.

Reunion please?

DSC_0242

Oh, “The Spot”…

My best Neoscape gal-pal Amanda and I

Me and my best Neoscape gal-pal Amanda

Love these guys

Love these guys

At our other spot, the ICA

At our other spot, the Institute of Contemporary Art

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2 thoughts on “Memory #12: Lunch at “The Spot”

    • Well, 2006 was 7 years ago, which is pretty much 10 years ago, which is basically a third of my life-ago. Barf. When are we moving to the Greek Isles again?

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