i wore a lot of flowing black dresses my senior year of high school (’97). my favorite band was the cure. i died my hair black so many times that when i finally went to a salon to try to get it lifted out, i made the stylist cry in frustration.

i always denied that i was ‘goth’ (don’t try to label me!), but that’s what i was.

i got my driver’s license that year and my mom gave me her old 1979 chevy cavaliar to drive. it was purely unremarkable (brown exterior, brown cloth interior, ceiling panel sagging, the works) except for one thing: the license plate read 1NLN666.

there was a goth club i would go to every thursday night and after months of attendance, my car was affectionately dubbed “the satanmobile”. one day someone painted a chevrolet symbol on the wall in the parking lot and no one would park there because it was understood that only the satanmobile parked there.

not even the dude who drove a hearsh got that kind of awesome treatment.