Santa Monica Department of Transportation: Don't Argue with a Bureaucrat!

My lord I had the funniest exchange with a bureaucrat at Santa Monica City Hall the other day. A middle-aged woman in the Santa Monica Department of Transportation was "helping" me get a new guest parking pass for my apartment in Santa Monica that morning. I swear that the back and forth between us was like that scene in Meet the Parents when Mr. Focker's character was catching a flight back home late at night and ran into Ms. Oblivious Flight Attendant at the boarding gate...

Me: "Hey, good morning!"
Desk Lady: "Do you have a number?"

I look around and there's no one else in sight. It was like 8AM on a Tuesday. You could hear the birds chirping.

Me: "Do I need a number?"
Desk Lady: "You can get a number at the front desk."

She points at a desk where another middle-aged woman was slumped over a typewriter. I walk over to the desk, and stand there for a good 30 seconds before she notices I'm there.

Me: "Hi, is this where I get a number?"
Desk Lady #2: "Yes."

She prints me out a dumb ticket with a alpha numeric combination on it. Of course Desk Lady doesn't announce that she'll help "M-1234" or whatever the fuck was on my ticket. So I walk back over to Ms. Just-Giving-Me-Busy-Work, and then she looks up at me like I was a good boy for doing her bidding.

Me: "So I need another guest permit. I only have one right now, and I'm allowed to have up to two I believe."

Desk Lady looks at my paperwork from when I received my permits.

Desk Lady: "This paperwork is three months old. We like to see something from the past two months that proves you actually live where you say you do. Like a bank statement or a phone bill."

I just sit and nod. As she's saying this, she's actually preparing my parking pass. I could've said any of the following:

• "What the fuck makes you think you have the authority to make someone get a number when no one is around?"
• "What the hell? Isn't the fact that I received permits to my Santa Monica address three months ago, and my driver's license has my home address on it proof enough that I live there? I mean it's not like I'm registering to become a gun owner or something. I just need a place for my friends to park so they don't get ass-raped by your parking enforcement officers after 6PM."
• "Nice hair."

But I just kept quiet, got my permit, and felt kinda lucky it all worked out. Bureaucrats... middle-aged women need a job too, right?