Me and the Missus are visiting Barry Stir, an old friend who is in the legal profession.
He lives in Nottingham and when he's not donning a wig and gowns to be in court he's a concert-going Goth with a penchant for the Sisters of Mercy and Killing Joke. So when we're out and about and and he's taking us to his fave pubs we inevitably end up in the goth/rock pub in town.
It's a place of wonder and I want to stay there for ever and take pictures of all the weird and wonderful people on display. I tell the Missus these are my people and this could very well be my new spiritual home.
She tells me I am a nearly fortysomething man wearing jeans and a jacket and in no way look like one of them. I try to explain that the tribe of Goth is about internal as well as external attributes but she doesn't listen and talks to Barry Stir instead.
The next day we are out and about in town and we chance upon the two Goth/punk/S&M shops in Nottingham – and the Missus wants to go in. Result! So I encourage this and she gets into a discussion about tribal-style earrings with the woman who owns the shop. Even better, she buys some of them and toys with the idea of buying more.
The Missus is slowly turning Goth from the ears out...
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