A Step Below Homeless

Last time I checked, I lived in a big, furnished apartment where some people go to end their lives.

But in the eyes of the District, I live no place.

I’m subleasing my apartment, which, in the eyes of the non-state, apparently means nothing. And, given that my city-owned utilities (electric and water) are included in my sublease agreement and are therefore not billed to me, I lack official evidence that I live here.

Which means no registration. No license plates. No tags. No city parking permits.

So I called the police.

‘Cause, see, the police station is where you go to get a temporary parking pass, which I got last week. Since then, two officers have courted me, half pulling me over before realizing that my temp pass is still valid/having mercy on my poor Colorado-plated car.
So after a trying time at the DMV and then the Social Security Administration, I called the police.

Me: So you guys gave me this parking pass last week, and I’ve been trying to get registered at the DMV and they won’t accept my sublease contract as proof of residence. My DC utilities are included in the contract, so I get no paper bills for those.

The Filth: Hmm. What’d they say?

Me: Well, actually they told me it was illegal to sublease in DC.

TF: What? Hang on.

[Puts me on hold]

TF: Subleasing is not illegal, ma’am.

Me: That’s great to hear. So how come my sublease contract was good enough for you to give me a parking pass and not for them? Because pretty soon you’re going to be pulling me over for expired tags and the whole nine. I’m just supposed to drive unregistered for three months until  my sublease ends?

TF: Hmm. Uh, well… [gruffly] So what is it I can help you with?

Me: [silence]

TF: You could come in and get another visitor’s pass.

Me: Great. Thanks.

But you know, at least he offered something, even if it wasn’t a solution at all. When I asked the lady at the DMV how, if my lease wasn’t acceptable proof, I could possibly prove residency, she just shrugged and said, “Not my problem. Go get Social Security card.”

But even after dealing with the  jerks at the DMV (one of them walked up to me while I was waiting in line, plucked my coffee from my hand and threw it in the trash), sitting at the SSA, and speaking with an officer, the final kick to the ovaries didn’t come until a few minutes ago.

Apparently it’s easier for actual homeless people to show proof of residency. Check it:


Um, where can I get a notary to validate my sh!t?! Also, what does that form even look like? “I herby declare that I’m homeless”? W. T. F.

I’m going back in there tomorrow morning POST-coffee and making some demands. I know their sign says ‘no profanity,’ but so far polite isn’t working for me in this town. Tomorrow they’re in for a surprise from this granola-eating, sailor-mouthed Colorado transplant.

6 responses to “A Step Below Homeless

  1. D just noticed the mention of “lease or rental agreement.” If I don’t have a lease, I surely have a rental agreement. Ass. Holes.

  2. Seriously what is wrong with these people, what makes them so angry? I love that you are trying to do the right thing and still get the shaft. You should go in today with those giant green Incredible Hulk foam hands and see if they listen to you then. Urgh I’m actually really frustrated for you…stupid dmv.

  3. I have a couple theories…one is that they enjoy having the power to destroy your day. Brings to mind that awesome Dennis Leary jam, eh? 🙂

  4. I have another theory, but you might not be too excited to hear me ramble about the consequences of unbridled liberalism, so I’ll keep it to myself.

    I’ll just say that it’s a shame when honest, hard working, law abiding persons such as yourself have a hard time with this kind of thing when others who fall outside of the above definition do not.

    At any rate, I’m looking forward to hearing about the aftermath of Colorado sailor-mouth vs. DC DMV.

  5. No cussing or yelling yet, at least not on my end. But I did get yelled at while I was in line for the ticket counter. It was a rude, rhetorical kind of yelling: “WHAT are you doing? WHY are you standing there?” Dude. Mall cop. Back. Away.

    Um, so I decided to give nice one more shot. It sort of worked. Now my DC registration hinges on my building manager writing a letter for me stating that I live here. Did I mention that the people who work here don’t like me too much?

    In the event that they say yes and write me this letter (thinking there’s a 40% chance), I better study for the DC driving test. And maybe shop around for storage for my car for the next three months.

  6. Pingback: Le Grand Update « Expo86: Think.Write.Now

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