Turning back to Darian’s original question, Stacy muttered, “I don’t know. Maybe I’ll get an apartment. I got money, I just got paid.”
“You can’t just walk into an apartment complex and walk out with a place to stay,” Darian told him. At Stacy’s surprised look, he shook his head. “It’s not like a hotel, Stacy. You have to fill out an application and put some money down, then wait while they run a background check on you…it takes about a week if you’re lucky.”
Stacy sighed. “Shit.”
“Besides,” Darian continued, “it’s Saturday. Rental offices will be closed.”
Exasperated, Stacy threw himself back against the seat. “Well fuck,” he muttered. The waitress approached their table, the tray with their food balanced precariously on one hand, and he glared at her as she set down their plates. “I’m out of ideas, then. What do you suggest?”