One of the first places I lived when I moved out of my parents house was a converted hotel in a really old part of Los Angeles. My studio unit had a bathroom, but no kitchen. I lived off of microwave Trader Joe’s meals and stuff I could cook on a foreman grill. Cheaper units were basically just bedrooms that shared communal restrooms. We may be seeing more of this setup in the future.
Not everyone is blessed with my raw, vinegary sex appeal.