Bloody-Minded Rules Lawyers
NYC Title 24 §4-03
Admiral Biscuit
Offbeat carefully backed her carriage into its underground parking spot and then turned around and unfastened the shafts from her harness. Once they dropped to the ground, she could turn further and release the latches on her singletree.
She made sure that the brakes were set before leaving it, and walked across the hard concrete to the elevator bank. The elevator was a luxury she hadn't known she’d want when she moved in. She was young and fit: stairs had seemed like a perfectly good way to get up to her floor—but a day of work on the streets of the city wore her out. Too many stops and starts, and the pavement was hard on her legs.
She covered a yawn just as the elevator doors slid open, then stepped inside, carefully selecting her floor button. The buttons were in tightly-packed ranks, and it was easy to hit several of them by accident.
The elevator was busy at the end of the day, and a few neighbors got on during her ascent, mostly arriving on the ground floor and packing themselves in to what they considered a comfortable degree. Humans usually didn’t like being close enough to touch if they could avoid it, something that had always struck her as strange—sometimes in the morning when everybody was going to work, the elevator would get called to a floor, but the potential passenger would see that there were already five or six aboard and choose to wait for the next one rather than squeeze in.
When the bell dinged for her floor, she stepped between the riders and out the door, finally getting her hooves on carpet. The slight give was refreshing—not as good as grass, but better than cement and tile.
She lived halfway down on the west side of the building. She slid her key out from its pouch on her harness, pushed it into the lock, and twisted the key with her mouth while pawing at the handle with a hoof. Human doors were not pony friendly, and she’d been negotiating with building management to put a contact plate on her door like the hotels had. She’d even pay for it, but thus far they’d simply stated that the doors were not to be modified in any way.
Whatever. She pushed the door open and let it shut behind her as she reached for the time-clock on the wall. She grabbed the time card with her mouth, slid it into the machine, and stamped the time and date on her card. The machine, at least, was semi hoof-friendly, even if it was stupid that she had to have it.
As usual, Offbeat resisted the alluring pull of her couch. It wasn’t time to stretch out and relax yet, even if she wanted to. She pushed the door shut behind her, twisted the lock, and then stepped into the so-called foyer.
Getting her tack off was easy enough. Sometimes people asked her how she put it on and took it off again, if she had anyone to help her, and she told them that it was easy with practice. A few buckles had to be unfastened, and then she could just slide it off her head in one piece. Maybe humans hadn’t been so clever when they’d designed harnesses for their equines.
She checked the cheek strap to make sure that her license medallion was still securely in place. The law required her to wear a halter with her license number on it which was a stupid regulation. It didn’t require how she wore it, so it was zip-tied to the top of her saddle band. Nobody made halters for ponies anyway, not on Earth and not back in Equestria.
Her coat closet had a peg she’d attached for hanging up her harness. She hooked her breastband over it, then worked the straps in position, making sure they weren’t tangled up.
That task done, she headed to the bathroom to wash off the day’s sweat and grime.
•••
Before she’d done any more than shake herself off, she walked to the kitchen—dripping water the whole way—and started nose-booping out a food order on her DoorDash app. New York City had a dizzying array of food from the hundreds of cultures on Earth, and if that wasn’t enough there were fusion restaurants that mixed cuisines. She was fairly certain that she could live in this apartment for the rest of her life and never have the same dinner twice if she so chose. Today felt like an Italian day, so she ordered wild mushroom risotto from Maison Harlem, and then went back to the bathroom. If she’d timed her order right, it would arrive right about when she was finished grooming.
The knock on her apartment door came sooner than expected, and a minute later she had food on her kitchen table. Instead of eating it right away, she decided to finish brushing her tail first, and then eat.
A few minutes later, she was just settling in for dinner when there was another knock at her door. Did I get the wrong order? Offbeat lifted the lid on her food. It looked and smelled like mushroom risotto.
“Coming.” She hopped out of her chair and headed down the little hallway to her front door.
It wasn't DoorDash again, it wasn’t UPS or Amazon or a Jehovah’s Witness; it wasn’t the building super coming to inform her that a contact pad would be allowed on her door after all, or a neighbor coming to invite her to a party. Instead, it was a code enforcement officer with a permanent frown etched into his face.
“I’m Inspector McDonagh from the New York City Department of Health. Are you—” He looked down at his paperwork and the frown got deeper. “Offbeat? Offbeat Offbeat? Miss?”
“Yeah, I’m Offbeat. Just one, but your form didn’t let me only put a name into one box.”
“I see,” he said with a tone suggesting what he thought about people—or ponies—who didn’t fill out forms correctly. Even if that form couldn’t be filled out correctly. What was she supposed to do, list her name as Beat, Off? That was no good. “And you run a carriage horse business.”
“Yes.”
“Your record doesn’t indicate where the animal is stabled,” he said. “That information is required.”
She rolled her eyes. This was another stupid thing in all the requirements, like her having to have a halter with her medallion on it, or being required to take five weeks of vacation every year. Or to retire when she was twenty-six—that was a problem she was going to have to sort out next year. For right now, it was one battle at a time.
“Right here, this address.”
“This is an apartment building.”
“Yes.”
“That is not an appropriate place to stable an equine. Even if it isn’t in violation of the building’s lease—which I’m sure it is—it is a clear violation.”
Offbeat sighed. “Me, I’m the equine, and I live here.” She pointed her hoof at herself, and then at the number on the door of her apartment.
He looked at her, then his paperwork, then back at her again. “This is most unusual.”
“Why? What part of it is unusual?”
His mouth dropped open as he attempted to formulate an answer. City code had of course never considered that the carriage horse ‘owner’ and the carriage horse would be the same entity; it wasn’t like Mr. Ed was going to trot down to the licensing department and get a license to pull carriages.
Except that was exactly what had happened, a neat little end run around the paperwork, a tree that owned itself situation.
Exactly what he hated.
“Right, then, we’ll just get on with making sure you and your—you are in full compliance. Do you have veterinary papers and vaccination records for the—for yourself?”
She nodded. Having to see a human vet had been an unusual experience. There had been similar confusion when she’d scheduled her appointment, and she’d learned that implying that there was a separate equine who needed to be examined made things go quicker on the phone, at least until the office had gotten used to her.
The receptionist and she had conspired to not warn the actual vet, who took one step into the holding stall where she had to wait and then noped right back out of it. After that, they’d got along great.
Offbeat grabbed the paperwork out of her file folder and spread it out on the kitchen table.
“You mind if I eat my dinner while you’re looking through it?”
Inspector McDonagh very much minded, but he couldn’t think of a single objection he could make. It was rude, but that wasn’t against the law. Instead, he just snapped open his reading glasses and started examining her paperwork.
She’d been thorough; she had her time cards, complete records from the vet and invoices for all her shoeings; she also had a separate set of medical records from an actual Pony doctor. Which counted for nothing as far as the city was concerned.
She was still eating her dinner when he finished looking through her paperwork. He shoved it back into its folder, pulled his reading glasses down, and turned his focus back to her. “Hoof brand?”
Offbeat stretched her left foreleg out for his examination. She’d always favored hot-shoeing for a better fit, so the brand hadn’t been that weird. Well, not until the human who’d done it started making it awkward, asking her several times if she was really, really sure she wanted an identification number branded into her hoof.
In actual fact, she didn’t, but the law was the law and she couldn’t legally operate without it.
“I see.” It of course matched the record, and if he’d checked the harness hanging in the closet, he’d have seen that the number on her medallion matched as well. “Very well, now I need to inspect the ‘stables.’”
While ponies didn’t really do air quotes for obvious reasons, Offbeat knew them when she saw them.
“Fine.” She snapped the lid on what was left of her wild mushroom risotto. She’d just have to finish her dinner later. Or save it for tomorrow and finish off the night with an ice cream sundae instead.
Equestria had its share of bull-headed bureaucrats, bloody-minded rules lawyers, and they wouldn’t go away until they were satisfied. As much as she didn’t want him poking his nose all around her apartment—especially since she hadn’t tidied up, since she didn’t know he was coming—she really didn’t have a choice in the matter. Not if she wanted to keep her job.
He was already poking around her kitchen, and before she could protest, he opened her fridge.
It was largely empty. A half-empty container of milk, two blocks of cheese, a growler of Tenement beer from Torch & Crown . . . her shopping day was later in the week.
Inspector McDonagh examined the beer, holding it away from himself as if it were poison, before putting it back in the fridge. His eyes roved over the counter, the tube of Quaker Oats—a good quick breakfast which could be cooked or eaten raw—and various other kitchen goods. She didn’t have much; she always ate lunch out and usually ordered dinners delivered.
“And you have sanitary facilities?”
Offbeat nodded, and opened her bathroom door. It had been a surprise to discover that every apartment she’d looked at had its own bathroom with a shower. Most apartments in Manehattan didn’t, instead offering a shared facility on each floor.
He took in the cluster of shampoos and conditioners, the scattered curry brushes and mane combs and hair ties, the tail extension she sometimes wore when she wanted to look really fancy for a night out on the town. The damp towels draped over the towel rod and the wrinkled bathmat on the floor, the lingering scent of her soap still hanging over the bathroom.
Without asking for permission, he stepped into the bathroom and took the showerhead off the wall. It had a hose attached to it so she could, in theory, remove it from its clip. She’d tried that once and the convenience it had added to her bathing had been offset by the difficulty of removing it and putting it back up—it was sized for standing humans, not a pony.
He left the bathroom without turning out the lights and then cast a cursory glance at her living room before turning his attention to her bedroom.
Offbeat hadn’t appreciated the irony of the apartment company saving space—and being trendy—by using hanging barn doors as bedroom doors. She liked how big they made her apartment feel when they were open, and never really gave a thought to their pastoral origins.
This was also where she ran into her first real difficulty.
She saw his eyes light up at the moment he laid eyes on her bedroom, and she knew it wasn’t because of the half-read Tamora Pierce novel on her bed stand. Functionaries like him read legal codes for fun, not novels.
“There’s no bedding,” he said. “Title 24 Section 4-03 (f) requires bedding be changed at least once daily, and be at least three inches thick.”
“It’s too hot for three inches of bedding,” Offbeat protested. “Even a blanket is kind of excessive, don’t you think? Unless I run the air conditioner really cold and that’s a waste of electricity. Maybe in the wintertime.”
“It’s customary to use hay or straw, although—”
“Hay or straw? Do you have any idea how itchy that is?” She narrowed her eyes and looked at him. “What did you say, title 24?”
“Section 4-03 (f).”
“I’m gonna google that.”
“Go right ahead, it won’t change the regulation.”
Offbeat trotted back to the dining room table and picked up her cell phone. It had taken her a while to figure out its robot assistant, but once she had, it had proved its value. “Okay, Google,” she began. A moment later, she had a PDF of the relevant law. “Doesn’t say that it has to be straw or hay,” she protested.
“No, nor did I. It’s customary—”
“And it doesn’t say that the bedding has to be on the floor, either. My bed is more than three inches thick from the frame to the top of the mattress, isn’t it?”
“The mattress doesn’t count as bedding.”
“Who says?” She scrolled the screen up. “There’s nothing about that in the definition.”
HIs face started to redden. “It’s common parlance; even if you’re trying to stretch the intent of the law to include a bed. Horses don’t use beds, they lay down on the floor of their stall.”
“I’m not a horse, buddy.” She flicked her tail and then reached under her bed. Humans made all sorts of clever containers that fit in odd spaces, such as the otherwise empty space under her bed. It was a perfect place to store all of her bed linens and blankets. “But fine, if you insist the mattress doesn’t count.” She pulled off the lid and threw her comforter over the bed. “There, that should be three inches.”
“It’s not even close.”
“You’re not counting the memory foam pad that’s under the bottom sheet,” she protested. “That’s not the mattress, that’s on top of it.”
“Uh-huh. And you change it daily?” He looked at the storage container, which didn’t include extra memory foam pads.
“Who changes their bedding daily? If I had a fever, maybe then.”
“That’s a violation,” he said. “And I also don’t feel you have sufficient nutritional foods available to you, which is a violation of Section 4-04 (b).”
“I was literally eating dinner when you showed up.”
“Yes, we’ve had a hard time inspecting since nobody ever seems to be home during normal business hours.”
Offbeat let out an exasperated sigh. “That’s because I’m working during normal business hours.”
“Normally, a stable has employees constantly available during the day.”
“I’m available to myself whenever I’m home,” she said. “If I wake up in the middle of the night I can make myself available to me if I should happen to need something.”
“Mm-hm.” He took out a pen and a notepad. “I’m not going to fine you for the 4-04 (b) at this time, since your medical records seem to indicate that you’re in good health and an appropriate weight for an equine of your size, however, I will recommend a fine for the 4-03 (f) violation. That will arrive in the mail and must be paid in fourteen business days; you can dispute the charges with the New York City Department of Health and Mental Hygiene.”
“How much is the penalty?”
“Usually twenty-five dollars for the first violation, but it can be more.”
“Fine.” Offbeat snorted. “Are we done?”
“For now.” Inspector McDonagh placed his hand on the doorknob. “Since you’ve been found in violation, there will be a followup inspection to make certain you’re in full compliance.”
•••
As soon as the door closed, Offbeat started angrily shoving her comforter back into its storage box. A lack of nutritious food—New York City offered anything she could want, delivered to her door, at all hours of the day and night. And he didn’t have any idea what counted as nutritious food anyway; was she supposed to go to a feed store and buy herself a sack of horse feed and eat that? When there was so much to choose from?
Maybe she would, just so she’d have it for next time. She could lean it up in the kitchen, over in the corner she never really used.
The bedding was a tougher nut to crack. Buying enough bedding so that she could change it every day was absurd. There was no way that Inspector McDonagh changed his bedsheets every day. Nobody did.
She sighed. That was a problem she was going to have to solve if she wanted to keep her license. Maybe she could rent herself an approved stable—that was something she could talk to some of the other carriage horse owners about. Did the law say that she had to actually use it, or did it just have to be available to her?
Offbeat put her leftover risotto in the fridge and grabbed her apartment key off its peg. She’d figure out a solution to the problem, but now wasn’t the time for that. Now was the time for an ice cream sundae, and there was a Baskin-Robbins just a couple blocks away. She could sit and nurse a Banana Royale sundae and think about ways to bend the law to her advantage.
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Admiral Biscuit's Fleet (group)
Pony On Earth (folder)
I never even thought of approaching ponies on Earth with exactly this angle. Nice work.
“The first thing we do is, let’s kill all the lawyers.”
--Dick the Butcher, Act IV, Scene II, Henry VI, Part II
"Hm..."
--Princess Luna, Equestria, after experiencing her first Earth play.
PS: And of course we must assume a minimum retirement age for carriage horses. That's going to be a fun one.
I quite literally just returned from a vacation to NYC myself, and while in Central Park, had the similar brain-wave of; "Haha, wouldn't it be funny if these horse carriages had no hoomans at all, and were just equine freelancers instead?'
I guess pony wires the brain differently.
Cute story about the horrors of big city bureaucracy.
There's definitely a possible ADA case in there as far as the door goes, and demanding she brand a number on herself is definitely worth calling the ACLU and raising hell over.
Department Of
For What It's Worth
Black Beauty recommended starting a horse working at 4 years old -and the author was a member of the RSPCA.
The GOP let's us humans work in conditions that they won't let horses work. If they ain't careful "work like a horse" will change it's meaning.
According to a chart I found, a 5 year old horse = about 25 for a human. A 25 year old horse is about 78 in human years.
Oh & from what Dick Francis wrote, ALL horses born anytime in a year are considered to have a January 1 birthday. For racing purposes, a horse born in December would be a year old in under a month. That's a pretty big handicap.
It was a plot point in one of his books. Horses can hear dog whistles.
I'd suggest getting the EQ ambassador to work on modifying age requirements.
& yeah, you might want to get a 50 lb bag of Purina Horse Feed (Good for 25-40 days for a 1,000 lb horse) & store it in a metal ice chest (to keep it vermin free). Surely that much food on hand is adequate.
I feel like I should speak up in defense of the legal profession on this one. A lot of these regulations are either rent-seeking, regulatory capture, or full-employment provisions for nudniks. This goes double for anything in NYC. (I have a college classmate who used to work for the MTA general counsel's office handing labor relations cases. He told me that lot of senior NYC civil servants seem to think once they hit 10+ years in the job or get a supervisor's position they get to overrule the actual lawyers about what laws and regulations do and do not mean. This can get... expensive... for the city on the back-end.) On the bright side, if sentient miniature equines ever did settle here, Offbeat could simply contact any one of several well-known pro bono legal groups - the ACLU, the Institute for Justice, etc. - wave the Due Process and Equal Protection clauses of the Fourteenth Amendment and/or state human (+ pony?) rights laws at them, and either get a whole lot of regulations changed quickly, or make enough in settlement fees/damages that she'd bet set for life.
This story did bring a smile to my face the whole way through. I always enjoy these stories and the way you carefully think through the mechanics of a pony in a human world. I would have like to have seen an ending with the NYC bureaucrat being told that his interpretations of the rules do not even pass the rational basis test, but whatyagonnado?
Talk about being shortsighted and unable to think past the immediate. Inspector Mcdonagh doesn't realize that his inflexibility and incompetence is going to lead to him and his department being the subject of a front-page NYT story. This is perfect "human/equine interest" fluff for the average reader to get indignant about.
Won't it be more convenient to license herself as a rickshaw instead of a carriage? Surely there's more lax regulations for keeping employees.
11685542
It's a dude called "Dick the Butcher" saying that. It might not be a good idea... ;)
11685702
Shakespeare kind of exaggerated that affair for some black comedy with the uneducated peons trying to be eloquent and twirling their villainous pencil-mustaches, but it did happen.
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jack_Cade%27s_Rebellion
When the talking pastel pony is the rational one, you know you need a reality check. What a maroon.
I really want there to be a follow-up chapter showing her victory.
*Offbeat makes a phone call*
Hello, Equestrian Embassy, how can I help you?
*Offbeat explains*
Right. We shall look into this.
Get me the legal team. They need to go to the Mayor to get laws written for Horses not be applied to Equestrians, as well as inform his inspectors to use their brains and not just blindly follow regulations that clearly do not apply to SENTIENT BEINGS. AGAIN!
*sound of chair being bucked through wall*
Think you got autocorrected there.
As for the contact plate; I has an aunt many years ago with some sort of mobility issue. I don't remember the cause, but I know her apt. door had very strong duck/electrical tape on the latch and she used the deadbolt to keep it shut/locked.
You know, I'm sure she could use those laws and regulations too..... a broad enough reading of the ADA should be able to include needing to provide Ponies the same assistance as someone who lost their hands, such as easy to use door latching mechanisms.
Pretty sure we saw a few early on in Rarity's shop..... though that was likely Lauren having a bit of fun with the censors who wouldn't grasp that was likely from her "Rarity's Secret" line.
Yeah..... the fun of trying to deal with boiler plate forms that really aren't able to deal with oddities. Again likely one of those things that would be fixed... but only after somepony raised enough of a stink about it.
"Those are Horse years, not Pony years!"
Yeah, this system really is not designed to handle equines that can work for themselves.
Well yeah.....but that's bec0usae Mr Ed was kind of shady and would just run an unregistered business then leave Wilbur to deal with the fallout of it afterwards.
That at least makes sense, since really vets with training in horses would be the best medical professionals for Ponies till more regular doctors started training in dealing with it.
Yeah..... that one has to be awkward..... and again, one of those things that if she fought hard enough would likely be adjusted.... but that would take a lot of time and effort and she seems the sort of Pony who just wants to get it done the easier way.
Okay dude.... I get having to go along with certain bits of regulation that don't make sense.... but this is just being an asshole.
That should be fun...
Really, at this point, just.. just do one blanket law that adds an * to all other laws regarding equines that says "Does not apply to Equestrian Ponies."
Yeah, this is more then enough reason to go get some ice cream.
And now I want the follow up to this where she actually walks into that office to argue about her fine and makes them try to explain it to her face. Because wow was that guy just a fucking ass.
11685844
The simplest solution is to simply divide her name. Off for one, Beat for the other.
He would, too. Mr. Ed was an asshole.
It's New York City. There's no difference between the two standards.
I know at one time a number of animal rights groups were pressing to get NYC and a few others to ban carriage horses as too cruel and inhumane to the horses. All those regulations don't surprise me even when they don't make sense in the least I can see it being too hot for even a blanket. Yes have sentient ponies living in NYC would make things very interesting. While the rules might make sense in dealing with a horse that can't take care of itself in the city they make little to no sense for a pony that can order food just as readily as a person
Poor Offbeat. I really hope you'll have a followup of her fighting the fines. n_n
“It’s common parlance; even if you’re trying to stretch the intent of the law to include a bed. Horses don’t use beds, they lay down on the floor of their stall.”
At that point, if I was Offbeat, I'd have said. "We are done here. You can submit your report and any preserved infractions to the Equestrian Embassy, to whom I shall be calling right now so they can report YOU to your boss for being an idiot who cannot tell a thinking being apart from a dumb animal. Now, GET OUT BEFORE I BUCK YOU OUT THE WINDOW!"
11685542
Thanks! It's a fun angle to explore, and this barely touches the surface.
It makes sense for IRL horses, but Offbeat's gonna have a tough nut to crack getting that rule changed for her.
11685545
Pony improves how the brain's wired, and that's a fact. It's a good niche for equines to get into on Earth, although there's only a few places where they could pull it off.
Cart pony on Mackinac Island (where cars are banned) would also be a possible career choice. USPS has horse-drawn mail carts for service there.
Thanks!
11685577
Potentially, although that might not be a battle she wants to fight. She doesn't personally have any objections to having her ID number branded on her hoof (it will grow out over time), although of course if she started to make a fuss about it there's a certain visceral reaction most humans have about the powers that be marking people with numbers. That's a fight I think she could win in a heartbeat.
I don't know if ADA laws include ponies, nor how far you have to go with the modifications. I would guess that there are some that are mandatory and others that are case-specific, and still others which just go beyond what's required of a landlord or a business.
11685598
I'm guessing that either horse knowledge changed over the years, or New York was being more conservative. I don't know what age horses are fully grown 'adults,' nor for that matter how soon they should start training for work (since I would hope there was some training before the horse started working as a carriage horse).
Yeah, that sounds about right. AFAIK horses generally live 30-some years.
I think that's just for racing/other competition purposes. I don't know if that specifically applies to working horses, or if you need the actual birthdate.
Yeah, they can hear frequencies lower and higher than we can (humans: 20-20,000 Hz; horses 5-33,000 Hz).
That might be worth doing, although it's possible that what Offbeat is doing is enough of an edge case it isn't really a problem yet.
"Horse feed? It's over here." Lifts lid. "Plenty of it . . . exact same amount as there was last time you were here, in fact."
11685626
It's not just them; I've watched a few legal shows in my time and there are plenty of cases where the city/public employee should have known better and is gonna cost their taxpayers a lot of money. There was a case a few years back where a Sheriff who was too big for his britches physically searched a whole bunch of minors for some stolen money (IIRC) without their parents being present or even notified . . . I don't know how a lawyer could even really defend that case.
The real question is do Ponies count as humans in terms of the regulations (which has its advantages and disadvantages). Like is it worth being classified as human if it means you have to wear pants outside? Probably opinions vary.
Thank you!
I wouldn't be surprised if her supervisor was one of those 10+ year veterans who decides that the rules are the rules, no exceptions.
Heck, some day let me tell you about the challenges in correcting a police record when the paperwork was done wrong. One department I spoke to said I had to contact the court, but what court handles cases that never existed?
11685658
That's how some of the inspectors are . . . and of course his defense would be that he was just doing his job and the law is clear. Which, to be fair, it is, it's just not designed to work when you have sapient ponies.
I could see her calling up a reporter and complaining (and you're right, that's the kind of stuff newspapers and television stations love), but I could also see her figuring that it's the cost of doing business and coming up with some clever solution that ticks all the legal boxes, even if it's not exactly in the way the law intends. Three inches worth of pillows on the floor could count as 'bedding,' after all.
It really is.
11685675
If you're thinking the traditional kind where a human carries the shafts, as far as I can tell with some very cursory googling they're not legal in NYC. Pedicabs are, which are three- or four-wheeled pedal-operated 'cabs.'
I think it would be easier for her to fall into the category as a 'carriage horse' than a pedicab operator; I think if she tried to operate a pedicab she'd be facing different obstacles. I did check, and two-wheeled 'pedicabs' are not legal in NYC (they define them as having three or more wheels).
Maybe she could tow a wagon and call it a pedicab, but I could see the police frequently pulling her over for operating a carriage where she shouldn't. This way, she operates where carriages are allowed and doesn't run into trouble on her day-to-day operations, just has to deal with other paperwork.
Also, there are probably plenty of cities where there aren't so many specific rules that she could set up business instead.
Just skimmed Kalamazoo MI regulations; they're not very specific about her 'stable' except that it be clean and sanitary and enclosed. Also the same regulations say "It shall be unlawful for any person to cause or permit any combat between animals and humans." So she's not allowed to fight people.
11685738
Perfectly inflexible, as many bureaucrats are.
11685758
Ponies are also bloody-minded rules lawyers; next time he shows up there will be a huge bag of horse feed and three inches of 'bedding' in her bedroom, maybe in the form of throw pillows.
"And they're changed every day?"
"I move them around, that counts as 'changing' them."
11685771
I genuinely feel that the ponies are also rules lawyers and pick their battles very, very carefully. And I also think that they'd tend to follow laws . . . creatively. Just getting a thicker mattress pad might satisfy the legal requirement, and not rock the boat too much.
The reason I bring this up is that there are a lot of advantages to not being a 'person' (such as the fact that Offbeat has better working conditions than I do), and it might be a disadvantage to be considered fully human. Like having to wear pants, or a shirt if she wants to go into a restaurant.
11685783
I also write on a website called Offprint; I had to keep telling myself to not type her name wrong. I'm kinda surprised only one slipped through editing, lol.
It's fixed now, thank you!
There are probably alternates that are available, although I don't know for sure. Not something I've ever looked up. Putting a hotel-style RFID/mag strip key on her door is probably more complex than she thinks (after all, it needs some wiring, a computer that knows if the right card is used, etc.) but there might be other choices that are more hoof-friendly.
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I genuinely don't know how broad those rules are. I think the ones that don't fall under code requirements are usually 'reasonable,' and what counts as 'reasonable' is open to interpretation.
We very much did. Whether they were 'decorative' or for 'ask me when you're older' reasons, that's open for discussion. In terms of the normal functional use of a halter, I think we can both agree ponies would have no use for them. For other reasons . . . well, whatever consenting ponies do is their business.
Even then, some forms would get changed and others would not--I could see governments changing their forms to fit new realities, while other websites might not.
It really isn't. Many of our laws aren't, if you really think about it.
Of course that depends on how 'equine' the ponies are, but assuming they are (which is my headcanon) they're the best medical professionals the ponies have on Earth, barring actual Pony physicians.
One of those things that doesn't bother her but indirectly bothers the human, so makes it more awkward and weird than it should be. And yeah, that's the kind of thing that some ponies would very much care about (especially ones who really cared about how their hooves looked), and others wouldn't see as a problem. It doesn't hurt to have it applied, and it grows out over time, what's the big deal?
Inspectors are often very inflexible. That's both good and bad.
If it's only $25, it's probably cheaper and certainly faster and less frustrating to just pay the fine rather than jump through all the hoops to debate it.
I was going to have an actual copy of the horse inspection form, filled out, in the blog post, complete with 'doesn't apply to Equestrian Ponies' in a few key locations.
She's got her priorities straight. And Baskin Robins is gonna serve her if she forks over the cash. (Heck, with her job, she's probably a regular.)
I could totally see that, too. And then finding out that the bureaucrats at the office are even more pig-headed than he was.
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Sure, but given that the forms usually list last name first . . . of course, that might not be a bad thing.
(speaking of that, I managed to sneak 'admiral biscuit' through as my 'name' in gMail by claiming it was Arabic ('admiral' comes from Arabic) and that wasn't challenged).
Yeah, I think that's the case.
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Yeah, I think that the rules are a good thing and I wouldn't be surprised if a lot of them dated back to the horse and wagon days and were never changed . . . and back then, that really would have been a good thing. I'm sure there were plenty of shady operators who didn't take care of their horses or equipment.
But the rules run into trouble when the equines are sapient and can order DoorDash and sleep in an apartment, and in a case where Ponies are on Earth, the rules would have to be changed or at least more flexible, In which ways is really open for debate . . . and some of the 'working' laws are probably very much to her advantage.
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I might . . . although if it's only $25, it might be less stressful and certainly faster to just pay it and then come up with a clever solution that technically fulfills the requirements. Like a thicker pad on her mattress, for example.
If she's feeling like doing research, there might be some caselaw she could cite. Or just get her vet to write her an exception. "Patient OFFBEAT cannot rest on hay or other traditional bedding and instead requires 3" of memory foam on her bed."
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She's probably dealt with enough of this already to have it be kind of a hobby (like not letting the vet know that she's both the owner and the animal to be examined). Instead of spending all her energy fighting the system, find a solution that ticks the box. As long as it's something that's technically correct, he's enough of a functionary that he'll approve it.
And if that doesn't work, call a newspaper or a TV station, maybe tell her story from the horse stall she's rented for the occasion. "They're requiring that I live here, rather than my apartment." Get public pressure on her side.
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I'd point out that in the USA Congress decides "Who gets to have what civil rights?". Then SCOTUS decides "What did they mean by that?"
Just offhand
The 13th, 14th, 15th & 24th amendments for minority voting
A SCOTUS case for gay marriage
The 18th amendment for women voting (and it wasn't until the 1950s that they served on juries very frequently)
There was a 1923 law passed making Indians that lived on reservations into US citizens. Before then, they weren't.
You move to Puerto Rico & it affects your SSI rights. SCOTUS says so.
So IMO it's going to take a law and/or a SCOTUS case to get Equestrians full civil rights.
As to using the ADA to get the door lock changed.....
The law just says "reasonable" accommodation. What's reasonable? She CAN get the door open, it's just difficult & you sue & you're going to get on the landlord's bad side. This can make getting repairs difficult.
But yeah, the ACLU would probably help her + maybe the Pony embassy & some civil rights groups.
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I guess it just galls to see her defeated by one asshole? I'm used to your ponies being successful in their struggles. ^^;
Sounds like she needs a lawyer. Although, considering what I've heard about New York City life and business ownership, this guy was actually saint. Any other inspector would've found an excuse to give her a fine of four figures, bare minimum (most likely five). I'm not sure even a lawyer could help her; any attempt to contact the office to challenge the fine and they'll just give her the run-around until the time limit to challenge passes, assuming they even respond at all. And changing the regulations? If challenging it is like trying to pull a manticore's teeth, then changing them is like trying to pull Discord's teeth.
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That's why I started with "If I was Offbeat". Because I lack a filter for dealing with BS.
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AFAIK states can grant more rights or make more things legal if they so choose (sometimes that gets debated, of course). Like the feds still outlaw marijuana, but a lot of states let you buy it and use it with some regulations attached. Some of them the government wants to fight for whatever reason, others they just let go.
Or a friendly state which would probably give them as many as they could. Or a local jurisdiction . . . I suppose it depends on which 'rights' are being discussed (after all, we can both agree that they aren't US citizens, which does remove some rights by default).
Yeah, I was thinking the same. There's some stuff baked into the building code, and if the apartment's in violation she's got a slam-dunk case. If it's not, then it hinges on what's considered 'reasonable,' and that might not be a fight she wants to get into for time/money reasons. She can open the door, so she isn't significantly harmed.
They could, although I suspect that some of it would depend on if that was a battle they wanted to fight or not. I don't know what the right answer is, to be honest.
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That's fair. Still, she's got a job that pays her enough to afford a New York City apartment and food, which counts for a lot. An inflexible inspector and a small fine before she can figure out a solution which 'technically' complies with the law isn't that much of a downside, all things considered.
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Very true! but I wanna *see* it.
That said, I understand if your muse calls you elsewhere. n_n
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Yeah, it could very much be worse. Or he could just recommend that she shut down her business until it's in full compliance, or recommend that she's banned from keeping horses (which would be a REALLY interesting case).
I've dealt with this before. Not this exact situation, but one where I needed to change something which required contacting (in order) four different departments and driving an hour (each way!) to get an e-mail address (really, they couldn't give it to me over the phone, I had to get it in person). It took three weeks to get it resolved, and compared to some things, that was really quick.
Yeah, her best shot at fixing the regulations is getting herself elected mayor. Otherwise, it's a very uphill battle.
is this joke the only reason she's named offbeat hahhahahah
11686089 Actually alot of the animal welfare rules are more modern. The idea of a horse or other such animal not working for any period of time if they weren't lame or sick is VERY modern after all if the drivers didn't work they didn't eat
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Interestingly, no--that just was a happy accident.
Offbeat's the fan name for a pony in Starlight Glimmer's village (the one in the coverart).
Hold it, does the straw/hay bedding require a stable (of some kind) ??
Wouldn't being outside a stable nullify needing the bedding ??
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The rules essentially state that working horses must be kept in a stable, and the requirements of a stable include that it needs to have at least three inches of bedding.
Obviously, the rules weren't written with the idea of an Equestrian Pony working as a carriage 'horse' and living in an apartment.
If you click the link to the blog post (the story notes mentioned in the author's note at the bottom), I've got excerpts from the relevant laws in the blog post.
she should argue she's actually a pedicab driver and shouldn't require a carraige license. Now it just so happens her pedicab is also a carraige but that's just a variant of pedicab
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There's a story prompt in there. "Marigold only wanted to plant flowers in her front yard. Unfortunately, the town of Ponyville had an ordinance against it, and there seemed to be no way to change it. Unless she became the mayor."