January of 1975 - I was in the Navy, stationed at NAS North Island (Coronado, CA.) The barracks were pretty crowded and housing allowances were distributed according to rank to those who wanted to move off base.
I found a cute little studio with a Murphy bed for $150/mo all utilities included. There was a love seat in the main room with just enough space to walk past it when the bed came down. There was a tiny nook with a little table and 2 chairs next to what I called my After-Dinner Mint kitchen: yellow and green tiles for the counters and backsplash, pink refrigerator. Abutting the nook was a walk-in closet/dressing room area that opened into the bathroom (with its slightly spongy floor.) Outside the bathroom window was a lemon tree, but I was too honest to pick any of the lemons.
The entire place was about 24’X14’. The main room and dining nook were carpeted in blue-and-green shag that was reeeeeally matted down. The apartment “complex” consisted of four of these units making up a single building. Mine was the 3rd unit in from the street. It was a fairly easy bike ride to the base and on to the hangar where I worked.
But the landlord was a thief - when I moved in, the place was filthy, but I didn’t care because I wanted it, and being my first place, I didn’t know about filling out an inspection form. So when it was time to leave, first thing he did was pull down the bed, lift the mattress to expose rust stains on the bottom, and inform me that I wasn’t getting my deposit back. Asshole.
But it was a perfect first apartment. It has since been torn down.