So yeah, I wish I could say this was total fiction, but it really isn’t. The Dorm I lived in for three years (which kinda sounds like “Moose Hall,” with a couple of consonants changed) had a very old lobby full of nasty couches, that seemed like a breeding ground for goth stereotypes. I mean total stereotypes — the all black, black fingernails, talking about the nature of despair while writing bad poetry and listening to “Bauhaus” and never, ever ever changing clothes. They were mostly nice people, if you ignored some of the things that happened on those couches at night. …mostly.

But it could be creepy in there for the unsuspecting freshmen, or especially when they would bring Campus Tours through there. I guess maybe they were trying to weed out people who weren’t serious about college. ‘Cause if you looked at that Lobby and the people in it, and said to yourself, “yeah, I can deal with this, I can walk through this everyday and still want to learn and go to class,” then, man, you REALLY wanted it. And you’d probably be likely to succeed.

Or, you’d get sucked into some goth black hole, and become ONE OF THEM. I think they spread by either biting, or by passing around “The Cure” albums.

To be fair, I think The Cure is one of the best bands of all time. And I’d like to think I’m not ONE OF THEM. But I do notice I have a preference for black T-shirts… OH NO IT’S BEGUN