Hello InfoFans, it's time for another challenge. Today we're revisiting our famous 72 hours
homeless challenge and giving our favorite lab rat a break- instead of living on the street,
he gets to live in his car. With all that extra luxury though, we're upping the stakes
by making him live an entire week out of his car- when you really think about it,
it's like a mini-apartment on wheels! So stay tuned for yet another Infographics Challenge!
Day 1:
My homeless for 72 hours challenge ended up being one of my most popular, and controversial,
judging by the comments. Surprisingly though, most of the comments were overwhelmingly positive,
and we got a ton of emails from people thanking us for letting them know what
it's like for homeless people, with everyone pledging to be more charitable going forward.
Sometimes we do silly challenges,
and sometimes we do things like this to bring attention to real issues.
So my new challenge is to live out a lifestyle that's sadly all too familiar for many young
people today- live out of my car for a week. With rent prices getting higher
and higher every year in every large city in the world, and buying a house
being completely out of the question for all but a small segment of the population,
many people are being forced to live out of their cars for weeks, months, or even years at a time.
Now, I get to find out what that life's like. The rules are simple: no entering my comfortable
apartment, or even a friend's place, for an entire week. Also, no spending cash- that's right,
I start out only with the clothes on my back and a full tank of gas. I don't just have to survive
in my car for a week, I have to earn money and find food. It's urban survival all over again.
So I took my car and drove to the east side of LA, as far as I could
go from me and the girlfriend's cute apartment by the beach and the very
gentrified neighborhood we live in. These streets are rough, and the first thing I set
myself to was finding a way to earn money for the day. I hadn't eaten anything for breakfast,
and I figured I wasn't going to get anything until lunch- if I made any money.
I immediately headed for hardware stores and truck rental places, looking for a spot with
day laborers waiting to get picked up for a job or two. I got some stares from the
mostly hispanic group, but eventually they warmed up to me thanks to me speaking some
spanish. As we waited for someone to come by looking for workers, we talked about life,
family, and work- sadly, I had to lie to keep my cover, and I really dislike being deceitful.
It was well past noon and I had been waiting for at least five hours before
finally someone came by looking for several people to help move office equipment around.
I got picked and loaded up onto the back of a pickup truck,
then driven a few miles away to what looked like a new office building. At this point
I hadn't eaten or drank anything in about sixteen hours and I was feeling it for sure,
but by excusing myself to the bathroom I was able to hydrate in the sink at least.
We moved heavy furniture and boxes of supplies around for a good six hours,
honest-to-god backbreaking labor, and at the end of our little workday,
already late in the evening, we got forty bucks each and let out the front door.
Not even a ride back to where we got picked up. Doing the math, we earned about $6.66,
or $5.34 under the legal minimum wage for California. Then, I had a good four mile walk back
to where my car was parked on top of that, but most of the guys had even further to go then that.
The guys I was with told me that I was lucky, usually they get $40 for a 12 to 16 hour workday,
and the only reason we got what we got today was because the guy was
late coming to pick up workers. He must have been feeling generous too,
because he paid a normal rate instead of pro-rating it.
By the time I got back to my car it was really late, and I was exhausted from not eating and
moving really heavy stuff around for six hours. I hit up a drive-thru and found
a quiet spot to park my car, then finally answered the million texts the girlfriend
had very worriedly been sending me throughout the day. I had made a rule I wouldn't text
back until evening each night though, and was holding firm to it- which she hated.
Day 2:
I already know from my previous stint living on the streets for 72 hours that for homeless people,
the day starts early. At least if you want to earn anything.
I hit up a drive-thru again for some breakfast and made my way back to the same spot I had
gotten picked up for work at before. The same group of guys was still there, and because I
felt bad about potentially taking one of their jobs, I brought them breakfast- which ate up
most of my money. But you know what, in six more days I'd be warm and comfortable at home again,
so going hungry for a little bit if I didn't score work that day was a minor inconvenience compared
to the way that the guys lit up on seeing me bring them egg mcmuffins and hashbrowns.
It had been bothering me the entire night before that I could potentially
be taking someone's work for the day who definitely needed it more than me,
so I resolved that after this challenge I'd make things right.
The group had a sense of camaraderie that only comes from men caught together in adverse
conditions. It reminded me a lot of the fellowship between the guys in my old unit in the military.
There was the usual good-natured ribbing, the complaining, and a lot of
looking out for each other. What surprised me the most was how quickly the guys accepted me,
despite me being white and a complete stranger twenty four hours ago.
This day we got lucky and several people showed up early looking for help. I got picked along
with four other guys by two college kids to help them move out of their apartment.
What really bothered me about this job though was when one of the kids asked me in private
if I could “keep an eye” on the other guys with me. I knew why he did it- I'm white,
so he figured I was less likely to steal something from them.
Being in a mixed race relationship, I've had to deal with racism from time to time,
but this was the first time I experienced something quite like this. I needed the money,
so I didn't say anything, but I can't help but wonder what in the world made him think-
aside from the color of my skin- that I was any more trustworthy than my hispanic work mates?
I almost wanted to rob them blind just to teach them a lesson.
Anyways, it was another long, hard day moving heavy crap around. First out of
their apartment and then loading it into a truck and unpacking it at their new place.
The two kids bought themselves lunch at one point, but didn't bother to ask if any of us
wanted anything. When I commented on the fact to one of the older guys I was working with,
he just shrugged his shoulders and said that that's how it is. We worked from
about eight in the morning until about seven at night, and had no food the entire time.
Thing is, this was perfectly normal for the guys I was working with.
This challenge was starting to piss me off and I think the girlfriend knew,
because she insisted on having a phone conversation that night. It was so nice
to hear her voice, and yeah, yeah, I know it had only been 48 hours but what can I say?
I'm one of those guys that doesn't need 'guys night out' or anything like that,
because she's my best friend. I can't imagine wanting to do anything without her.
Day 3:
On the night of Day 2 I got woken up by cops who said that I couldn't park where I was
at, which was outside some warehouse in an industrial area. As I would find out,
one of the hardest parts of living out of your car is finding somewhere to park where people-
and police- don't harass you or tell you to move your car. I get it, the cops are just doing their
jobs, but city policy is clearly geared at keeping 'transients' out of public sight.
The college kids the day before paid us a whopping $50 for almost twelve hours of work,
and as I was quickly finding out, what you make as a laborer is completely up to what
people want to pay you. When you have no options, you just take what you can get.
I went back to the guys again bright and early, bringing breakfast once more even though
it basically ate up all the money I had. I talked to the older guy from the day before,
he was sort of a leader in the group I could tell, and I asked him about the pay and what
he typically earns. He said on a good month he can make a thousand bucks, but that's
money that has to be split between himself, his wife, and his three year old daughter.
A thousand bucks in Los Angeles is insane- the
average rent on a one bedroom apartment is well over that.
Thing is, I knew from previous experience that you can make decent money panhandling if you find a
good spot, and I asked him why he never considered doing that. He flat out rejected the idea,
and he said to me- and I really hope I'm remembering his exact words correctly here:
“If I do that, then I am exactly what the people who say I am a
problem in this country think I am. I am a worker, I came here to work,
not to beg. One day someone will see that, and I will get a real job.”
I've known a lot of brave guys in my time, people that I guess others would look up to and say,
“Now that's a man!” Let me tell you from first-hand experience,
this was a man, and I instantly admired him for his conviction.
I never asked my new friend if he was here legally or illegally,
but I know this- this country could use a hell of a lot more people like him.
The rest of the day was relatively uneventful. I was really moved by what my friend had said, and I
refused when I got picked for jobs until everyone who was there before me got to work that day.
By then though there was no more work so I didn't earn anything that day. Having spent what I had
made on two or three shirts from a local goodwill so I didn't wear the same thing every day,
and breakfast for the group of guys every morning, I was flat out of cash so day three I didn't eat.
Day 4:
I got harassed again on the night of Day 3 about where I was parking,
twice this time. I ended up having to park in a really crappy alleyway and there was
another van there which I'm sure was someone else living out of their car.
I stopped by a gas station but was refused use of the restroom unless I bought something, and all I
really wanted to do was just freshen up in the sink. I had literally no money on me though,
and it was humiliating to admit I couldn't even afford to buy a candy bar and get the
key to the bathroom. The clerk and some of the guests looked pretty disgusted at me,
and honestly those were looks I was starting to get a lot.
I'm familiar with the looks though from my 72 hours homeless challenge. People look at you like
you gross them out, or they do the opposite and literally pretend like you don't exist.
It's extremely dehumanizing, and I'll admit- I used to walk by homeless people
and pretend they didn't exist too, because noticing them would have been uncomfortable.
After my challenge I changed though, and as people kept treating me like crap I couldn't help but
think of the irony- in my normal life I always carry a 20 around and give it anytime someone
asks me for some change. I also make sure to ask the person's name, and then wish them well. Sure,
getting a crisp 20 is great I'm sure, but you wouldn't believe what humanizing someone and
asking their name does for them when they are ignored or looked down on all day long.
I finally found a bathroom that morning and freshened up best I could, then hurried to
the job spot a bit late. This time I didn't even have breakfast for myself, and when one of the
guys found out I hadn't eaten anything since the day before yesterday, he immediately went and
bought me a burrito from a street vendor- even though I know that was money he needed himself.
I'm a firm believer that who you are when the chips are all down is who you really are inside,
and this group of guys looking for jobs outside a truck rental place that I'd normally ignore
was turning out to be some of the highest integrity people I know. It only made me
madder to think about the day I was asked to 'supervise' because I was white and they weren't.
We all got lucky and got work that day, and well, not much to say about it except
it was another 12+ hour day, and again we weren't given any food at lunch or given a break.
At end of the day we all made $45 bucks, and once more had to either walk or take a
bus back to wherever we came from- not even a ride back to where we got picked up at.
At least I got to eat that night.
Day 5:
A homeless guy broke my window on the night of day 4. I guess I was in the wrong place
at the wrong time, or maybe the guy was being territorial. I don't know.
He was very clearly out of his mind though, and strung out on something,
because he yelled at me in my car and then threw a glass bottle, cracking the front windshield.
Then he just calmly turned around and pushed a cart full of trash down the road.
It was easy to get mad, hell I wanted to go after this guy, but then I stopped and
thought about it. The guy was clearly out of it, probably completely unaware of what he was
doing. Mental illness is endemic amongst homeless people- in fact if you're mentally ill you're
exponentially more likely to end up homeless then if you're not. Add on top of that the drugs that
homeless people often take just to escape their miserable lives for a few hours, and, well,
you've got someone completely off their gourd who likely has no idea what they're doing.
Can you really get mad at someone with no control over their own actions? Sure,
I can already hear the comments saying, “Well you can control if you take drugs or not.”,
which only shows that these people don't understand at all what it's like to need
an escape from your daily hell so bad that you'll turn to anything.
Besides, I have insurance. It's literally not a big deal.
My week living in the car had to be cut short on day five unfortunately. I am prone to kidney
stones, have been having them regularly since I was 20 years old, and I guess the dehydration,
stress, and poor food of the last week didn't help matters and may have encouraged
a new stone to start its journey out of the kidneys and down my urinary tract.
I woke up in the morning with extreme pain in my side, and immediately recognized the symptoms of
a kidney stone. The pain very quickly grew intolerable as I started to move around
and I knew I was in trouble. If you've never had a kidney stone,
it's apparently one of the most painful things you can experience. I can attest to that.
I barely managed to make it to an ER on my own, and I guess I was a little funky from
not bathing regularly and working really hard over the last week so the staff must have assumed I was
homeless. They were pretty shocked when I showed them proof of very good medical insurance though,
but I still had to wait an hour for an open bed in the back before getting any painkillers.
Eventually I got put in a bed and got my painkillers, which stopped the extreme pain.
I had totally forgotten to let the girlfriend know until they finally
admitted me into the back, and she showed up in tears because she was so distraught.
She plays at being a tough cookie but she's soft as they come inside.
So what's my week taught me about living out of my car? Well, being homeless is tough-
but most people understand that. What they probably don't understand is just how dehumanizing
an experience it can be. Those day laborers and homeless people you walk by every day,
they're real people, and odds are they're a lot better people than you imagine they are.
A week later I went back to find the guys at the truck rental place,
and they were happy to see me. I admitted that I was doing this all for a job,
and I split up in envelopes what I would have made for this episode and gave the money to them.
I might have taken work from some of them over the week, so I had to make things right.
I also put them in touch with a guy I know that hires and trains grips for film sets,
and pays a hell of a lot better wage than just $40 for a backbreaking 15 hour day.
I can't help but think after this challenge about how there's all this talk about the
American Dream, and how that dream is really well and truly busted when so many people
are living out of their cars, and others who are genuinely looking to be honest,
hard workers, have to resort to begging for jobs on the street.
Now check out our other challenge, I went homeless for 72 hours, or watch this vid instead!