musings: get me out of LA edition
UPDATE: This is the perfect representation of EXACTLY how I felt after leaving the LADOT office yesterday.
-The Pico Blvd. LA DOT Parking Enforcement office is without a doubt, the most soul-deadening place I have ever been.
-If you think your DMV woes hold a candle to what I dealt with yesterday at the LADOT office, you have not been to the LADOT office.
-Barack Obama had an easier time proving his identity than I had at the LADOT office.
-All I want is a dinky parking permit so I don’t keep shelling out money to pay for your stupid 2-hour limit tickets on my OWN STREET.
-Oh I get it, LADOT, you WANT me to keep paying those tickets.
-Oh, ok, so my 10 forms of identification including my MARRIAGE LICENSE are not sufficient to prove my residency on the XXXX Block of XXXXX Ave (redacted).
-Yes, LADOT clerk, you did just do 3 snaps in a Z formation while explaining that you’re “just following the rules.”
-Sure, I will take my “visitor” permit because apparently I’m an ALIEN living in my own apartment, according to LADOT. Thank you for NOTHING.
Image via Flickr