15.

I type Craig's list into the web browser as quickly as possible and head straight to Seattle housing. And the shit I find is horrendous and expensive. Spacious my ass. I'm apparently supposed to be willing to pay a fortune to be shit on by rats and slowly freeze to death If the black mold doesn't kill me first. God damn it. I came here because it's familiar and cheaper than other neighborhoods, but god damn it did I forget about all the fucking college bros. Fucking business majoring fucks. Last thing I want to live with. I want a place to live, not a room to hide in while I'm forced to listen to Nickleback and assholes cheering on beer chugging. So I can choose between living with a bunch of tools who just want to look good on paper, or live in a dilapidated heap that looks like god took a shit on it so hard it's about to collapse. My good mood has been utterly destroyed and I'm starting to completely dread this process. I haven't had to do this in so long. I'd grown too damn accustomed to couch surfing, cheap hotels, and holding cells. I'm so fixated on my anger and dread I barely notice how much time I've wasted. Jesus, I need to stop living inside my head. I shove in my last few quarters and power through some listings. I manage to find four listings that don't seem terrible enough to provoke me into wanting to commit violence towards myself or others. There are pens lying about emblazoned with the newsstands logo so I scribble some addresses and phone numbers down on my hands. I don't have a pen with me so figure with all the damn quarters I put into their rip off machine I deserve a pen or two. I chew on the back end of the pen while I gather up my horde of personal garbage. I turn around only to find myself bumping into a clerk. The combination of the pen in my mouth, the clerk walking up behind me, and me turning around quickly creates a terrible art disaster. As I snap my head around the pen drags across the man's face and leaves a sizable blue streak across his cheek. His punctured skin is blue but quickly being surrounded with red. The pen drops from my mouth and I make some unfortunate eye contact. I open my mouth to apologize and end up just giggling. The clerk's brow could only be described as furrowed.