SPIT ON, SWORN AT, AND UNDETERRED: WHAT IT'S LIKE TO OWN A CYBERTRUCK

WIRED spoke to seven Tesla Cybertruck owners about their most controversial purchase and why they're proud to drive it.

- BY ZOË SCHIFFER

ASIDE FROM A MAGA hat, there is likely no object that feels more emblematic of US president Donald Trump's return to the White House than the Tesla Cybertruck.

The blunt angles and steel doors look futuristic, for sure, but only if the future looks a lot like RoboCop. To some, it's a metallic status symbol. To others, it's fascism on wheels. Either way, heads turn.

Cybertruck owners see things differently. “To me, it's just a vehicle that I love,” says Andrew Castillo, a stock trader from Los Angeles. “It has no political affiliations at all to me.”

We're standing in the parking lot of McCormick’s Palm Springs Classic Car Auctions. All around us, a dozen Cybertruck owners—and their cars—bake in the 100 degree heat. They've arrived for a meetup organized by Michael Goldman, who runs the 53,000-person Facebook group Cybertruck Owners Only. Though suspicious of the media, they're eager to set the record straight about the car that they love. WIRED is here to learn how it feels to be out in public in such a politically charged vehicle. Has the past year or so changed anyone's minds about owning the truck? Do owners like the attention—or are they adding bumper stickers decrying Elon Musk?

As we're talking, a woman drives by in a small sedan. “Your cars are fucking ugly!” she screams before peeling off. Castillo smiles. “Some people just aren’t playing with a full deck of cards,” he says serenely.

Interviews have been edited and condensed for clarity.