I walked into the UCSB housing office with nothing. No appointment. No hope. Just a question: “What do I do if I don't have anywhere to live?”
The woman behind the desk didn't look surprised. She said: “You're not the first.”
She gave me a list. Four pages. Sublets. Room shares. Students going abroad. She said: “These are verified. Not scams. Some are far from campus. Some are expensive. But they're real.”
I asked: “How do I know which one to choose?”
She said: “You call. You ask for a video tour. You don't send money until you see the place. You trust your gut.”
I asked: “What if I don't find anything?”
She looked at me. “You will. You're resourceful. You showed up here. That's the hard part.”
I called five numbers today. One person answered. A room. A house. Five miles from campus. A girl who needs a roommate for fall. She's going to call me back. Maybe this is something.
The woman behind the desk didn't look surprised. She said: “You're not the first.”
She gave me a list. Four pages. Sublets. Room shares. Students going abroad. She said: “These are verified. Not scams. Some are far from campus. Some are expensive. But they're real.”
I asked: “How do I know which one to choose?”
She said: “You call. You ask for a video tour. You don't send money until you see the place. You trust your gut.”
I asked: “What if I don't find anything?”
She looked at me. “You will. You're resourceful. You showed up here. That's the hard part.”
I called five numbers today. One person answered. A room. A house. Five miles from campus. A girl who needs a roommate for fall. She's going to call me back. Maybe this is something.