Sometime in late June of 2011, I sat down at a Thai restaurant in Williamsburg with then-deputy editor Sean Yeaton. I'd been badgering him for months over email to give me a job at Motherboard before I decided to move to New York to bug him in person. I don't remember much about that lunch aside from wondering how to afford the meal while another guy, who I thought was perhaps Sean's boss but turned out to be an intern, talked my ear off at 100 miles an hour as Sean pulled his hair out while spinning through emails on his phone. I do distinctly remember telling my girlfriend that it went well.

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