Jeff's fastest sprint was enough to stop his Lexus from being towed away; a good thing, as he didn't think he had enough money to buy food and also pay a tow fee. The man driving the truck had no resistance to either the Winger charm or the Jeff the Lawyer manipulation, so it was easy to get his car off the tow truck hook, and back into another student lot, this one without a permit policy. Frankly, he was surprised that Greendale even had a permit policy. It just didn't seem the type.
He planted his two-days-since-laundry-day-clean slacks on the warm hood, and glowered at the general populace. It wasn't all that different from his usual expression on the Greendale quad, so he didn't even get any nervous looks, which was disappointing.
There had been a time when a frown from him meant a world of misery and despair, but now his grumpiness was meaningless. Like his life.
Jeff sat further back, and rubbed a hand over his face, and up into his hair. He could feel the grease from his un-showered-ness, as well as the stiffness of the product he put in his hair to try to disguise that fact. He smelled, he felt gross, and his clothes were all wrinkled and dirty because he hadn't gotten around to getting quarters for a laudromat. He shuddered. Public laundry.
"Oh, boy, Winger..." He muttered.
The study group (well, some of them) had offered him a place. And though the word (i) charity grated on his teeth, especially in regards to himself, he couldn't deny that he needed some kind of change, at least until his money came through.
Jeff thought to his friends who'd offered. Troy's father sounded terrifying, he knew for a fact that he didn't want to live with Shirley's two boys. Abed...Abed was probably the weirdest of the group, but also the least obnoxious. And, he had a private dorm room, no other people there to tip toe around. Bunk beds? Meh, he could live with it.
Sighing, Jeff scooted off the car's hood, and looked towards the student housing building. Could he abandon his pride and live in a student dorm with a tv encyclepedia with a possivle developmental disorder and a communal shower?
In that moment, a random sprinkler that was bent awkwardly (probably as the result of some drunk stumbling in a late night game of ultimate frisby) decided to start up with a pained crackle. The water sprayed out cold, hitting the side of his car and making Jeff dive our of the way with a yelp of dismay.
Answer taken. He could. Abed, here he comes.