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!
