After securing a contract role at Google’s Mountain View headquarters in 2019, I faced a major financial dilemma: I could not afford Bay Area rent while still being locked into a lease 300 miles away. To make the opportunity work, I lived out of my car on the Google campus for three months.
“I have family in the Bay Area, so I can work locally,” I told the hiring manager during an interview at Google. This was a lie; I was living 300 miles away in Santa Barbara at the time. Knowing the contract role required me to work on-site at the Mountain View headquarters, I decided to land the job first, telling myself I would figure out the living situation later. I was hired, but affording the move was complicated.
Moving into an apartment near Google was financially impossible. I still had four months remaining on my lease in Santa Barbara, and I couldn’t afford to pay two rents simultaneously, especially with Bay Area housing costs being so high (the median one-bedroom in San Francisco was around $3,600 a month). However, Google offered copious amenities on campus—free food, a gym, showers, and laundry—leading me to realize I could potentially live in a car. The only obstacle was that I needed to quickly trade my motorcycle for a vehicle I could sleep in.
I scanned Craigslist for a few weeks, sold my motorcycle to help cover the cost, and settled on a 2005 Volvo. I planned to live in the car until my Santa Barbara lease expired.
To prepare the space, I created custom window inserts using cardboard, black felt, and thermal insulation. This ensured privacy while I slept and helped retain some heat.
I also purchased a sleeping pad for insulation from the floor.
For the first two weeks, I parked in the Google office’s basement garage, giving me an incredible 30-second commute. Despite my insulation efforts, the car was freezing, and I often woke up shivering around 5 a.m. To warm up, I started going to work early, using the on-campus facilities: hitting the gym, taking a shower, and running a load of laundry. After a few meetings, I’d retrieve my clean clothes, fold them, and store them next to my makeshift bed in the trunk.
I minimized time spent in the car after work by staying at my desk until 11 p.m. watching videos. I assumed my manager thought I was either extremely dedicated or avoiding something at home. Occasionally, I drove the 300 miles back to Santa Barbara for a weekend to sleep in a real bed and swap out my clothes.
About two weeks in, security knocked on my window. They saw my setup and politely asked me to leave.
Fortunately, I found a new parking spot on campus near several RVs. Situated between two security zones, the location felt safer, and knowing I wasn’t alone was comforting. I only needed this arrangement to last another two months until my lease ended.
As the end of the lease approached, I convinced my manager to transfer me to the New York City office. While rent there wasn’t significantly cheaper than the Bay Area, I wouldn’t need a car. I sold the Volvo and used the proceeds to cover the security deposit for a Manhattan studio apartment.
On my final night as a car dweller, I confessed to a teammate that the reason I always stayed late was that I had been sleeping in my car for three months. His eyes lit up, and he asked if I was in a Volvo. When I nodded, he revealed he was living in the RV parked right next to me—we had been neighbors.
I soon learned we were not unique. He invited me to a monthly meetup where I met about a dozen other Google employees living in their vehicles. We traded tips on the best gyms for morning routines and the best late-night cafés. It became clear that many of the people I saw arriving early and leaving late were likely fellow car dwellers.
Looking back, I have mixed emotions about the experience. While the role successfully jump-started my career in the tech industry, it was sobering to realize how many people working for a major tech company were forced to live in their vehicles. It serves as a strong testament to the exorbitant cost of living in the Bay Area, which far exceeds the national average.
Even without the burden of paying for my Santa Barbara apartment, securing a comfortable living situation in the area would have been a significant challenge. I don’t regret taking the necessary steps to get the job I wanted, and I am grateful that my situation was only temporary and that I still had an apartment to store my belongings. However, I wish this arrangement hadn’t been a prerequisite for my career advancement, and I deeply empathize with anyone currently facing the same position.
Google did not respond to a request for comment.
