MFA Weekend cultural warriors finally catching up with the avant-garde of the 1890s (“Matisse!”) and, on Friday nights, dolled-up single people who miss college.

NEWBURY STREET One day, when you’ve sold out and are making real money, your significant other will look like one of these people and you’ll realize it’s gonna be a long, long time before you’re socially entitled to a midlife crisis.

OTHER SIDE CAFE The waiter looks at you like that because he once played bass with someone who’s in Panic! At The Disco and it’s just not fucking fair. Chill. It’s part of the ambience.

FENWAY PARK We’re afraid of few things in the good Lord’s vineyard. Sox fans are one of them. Cross the street. Don’t look ’em in the eye. Always keep a spare Sox hat handy if you wanna hide in a crowd of them. Help, mommy . . .

CITGO SIGN Your transformation will be complete when you think it’s normal that the major piece of public art in Boston is an old billboard for a Venezuelan oil company. (By the way, in the 1980s we voted to keep the sign where it is. That’s right — the CITGO sign is no freakin’ accident!)

ISABELLA STEWART GARDNER MUSEUM This rich old coot was actually punk as fuck: “I’m gonna die and leave my house all cluttered and you won’t be able to move a damn thing! Mwahahaha!”

LANSDOWNE Awww . . . our very own bridge-and-tunnel theme park! Miami’s South Beach meets a small town’s main drag on a Saturday night, plus them scary Sox people from across the street. You’ll try everything once or twice, right? Repeat after us: Joooooooviiiiiiiii!

MASS ART Debauched design nerds and future unemployables.

MUSEUM SCHOOL Aging trophy wives and installation twinks.

NORTHEASTERN UNIVERSITY A really prestigious school near Chicag . . . oh, wait . . . you said NorthEASTERN? Never mind.

ALLSTON Now: hip, loud, dark, noise, tats, dirt, tags, real live maximum everything, and all that. Fast forward 10 years: “Hi, my name is Betsy Bancroft. How long have you been living in South Harvard?”

BRIGHTON See “Central Square,” but add rows upon rows of affordable (for Boston) apartment buildings and fresh BU and BC students going through the revolving doors at the end of every summer.

BC See: “BU”; add “Catholic” before “Other.”

PARADISE ROCK CLUB Not to be confused with Paradise Café, the gay meat-market near MIT. Make sure you Googlemap the one that’s more your thing. We don’t judge.

THE MODEL “We’re so hardcore we’re open till 2 am! Yeah!” Thinking of getting a tattoo? Here you can see what it will look like in 20 years.

Boston’s melting pot, where Northeastern’s aspirational preppies rub A&F-clad shoulders with various minority old-timers bemoaning the rent hikes caused by House-worshiping earnest medicos marking time until they finish their residencies and are able to afford a Beige Palace in the suburbs. And the lesbian girls go “doo do doo do doo do do doo . . . ”

BRENDAN BEHAN PUB AND DOYLE’S CAFE These two venues are the yin and yang of Irish pub-ness in JP. Old-school, back-room politicking with a ruddy smile (Doyle’s), or moody, Guinness-soaked barstool philosophizing (Behan’s): pick your poison, Danny Boy!

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