To the lowest bidder. Seriously, that girl is getting one smack-fabulous discount.

For the price she'll be paying for monthly rent, one might expect her to be living in a public restroom.

Perhaps that public restroom would look like the one where I work.

You know, the one with a row of ghetto lockers, because what self-respecting lady working part time in a vending/floral building wouldn't need a safe place in which to keep all her nose-powdering equipment?
 The one that you enter into through a swinging stall door instead of a regular, sturdy wooden door, because one more stall door is just exactly what every public restroom needs.
The one with a sketchy bed and chair in a dark corner, because honestly, why wouldn't you want to nap on a disease-infested blanket in the same place your boss takes her special breaks?
If only the "arranging flowers" part of my job was as glamorous as the "special breaks" part of my job.

Oh wait.

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