DP or Not DP?

Last Friday was like any other day off -- bike ride, morning coffee, to-do lists, straightening up.

C was home too which was a bonus.

Now that we are engaged -- and homeowners together which has catapulted us into serious adultdom -- C and I decided to 'get hitched' at City Hall. We figured we had sung the song City Hall enough and besides it was more like paperwork because it doesn't really change anything for us as lesbians. But getting a glimpse into the "sanctity of marriage" revealed some very interesting things to me.

#1 no gay person in their right mind would want to get married in a place like that. The NYC City Clerk office has seen better days (or has it?) - the walls were yellowed, signs hung askew, fluorescent lights made everyone look pasty, there was what looked like bulletproof glass at the clerk windows, lines were demarcated to file us along like cattle. The municipal staff were less than amused and could not wait to get the eff out of there. I actually thought to myself this is the closest I would come to going to jail.

#2 so what's the big deal if 4 percent of New Yorkers get tax breaks? I mean that is the real main benefit of getting married. Just as an example, most employer health care plans -- IF they offer domestic partner benefits -- double tax lesbian and gay couples on the monthly payments, when married hetero couples enjoy these benefits tax free. If I were to go on C's benefits -- C would not be able to apply tax free money towards the health care fees -- it would be drawn from her after tax salaried money. So that is the 1st tax. Since her paying my healthcare is considered a gift to me - I then have to pay taxes to RECEIVE the health care benefit payments from C. That is the second tax. That is bullSH*T and not fair.

#3 getting married - or committed - means I will never be with anyone else. Ok yeah this was not really a surprise. My friend told me recently that her brother was supposed to get married a few months ago and he became physically sick (he like broke down) before the wedding and could not go through with it. Months later -- and now a dad -- he went through with it. I think about that and can only say that I do not feel more sure about a person in my life. C is the absolute one for me. Full stop.

So we had ridden our bikes over the Brooklyn Bridge and brought our $36 (registering for a DP is a dollar more than a marriage license - uh, why is this?). We were ready. A female City employee worked her way down the line and asked us why we were there. She pulled us off the line, got us our form and told us we needed a money order - NO CASH. With the clock ticking towards 3:45 (closing time) I hightailed it to the local Duane Reade to get the money order. When I get there, the woman is on her lunch break -- pressed for time I ask "who takes lunch at 3:30? Isn't that more like dinner?" I ran to Western Union and patiently waited as the two people in front of me bought metro cards -- can't you get that in the subway?? I got more pressing matters here.

With the money order in hand, I ran in my flip flops three city blocks back to the City building, through security and up to the 5th floor like I was in the Bourne Ultimatum

I returned to find C had drawn a bridal bouquet of flowers on a sheet of paper. We held the flowers together and giggled as we waited on our second line. After our form was in and all the info was double checked and correct, we were told to wait on the cashier line and upon payment our DP would be in effect.

Now -- as official DPs -- we left the building ready to check off the next item on our to-do list -- celebrate!