run by a withered Hispanic woman who’d pinioned my arm when I slipped a copy of Heavy Metal into my jacket and ducked for the door.
it's an interesting voice. this is dirty and criminal brooklyn, but his language is so elevated. but it's true, it's not really a parody and doesn't come off as tryhard. i think that's pretty good. sheltered Torrance-raised me could not write about Compton, even though I've "been through it" and have vivid memories of BKs with glass at the cashiers and so on.
