I was once a goth too
I recall once I was coming back from Slimelight (London night out) and was therefore catching a rather crowded bus from Oxford city centre to a small nearby village at about 9.30 AM (Slimelight having chucked out at half seven).

I looked a state, had been up all night dancing badly and was covered in badly-applied bad makeup, badly streaked down me by some excellent sweating. My hair looked like Edward Scissorhands and my eyes were red hooded after too much drink and caffeine. I was clad in leather and chains (yes, it was a look I liked) and had some New Rock boots on with flames halfway up my legs.

A little old lady came on, sat behind me and asked if her grand daughter (who was all of 5) could sit next to me. Of course I readily agreed and sat happily staring out the window 'til my stop arrived.

I asked the youngster to excuse me as I got up and she moved and the gran took my hand and saud the immortal line:

"Thanks love, you looked least like a child molester."

I often wondered how offended the others on that bus must have felt.
( Mockingbird Practitioner of SCIENCE, Thu 21 Feb 2008, 12:03, Reply)