Tagged with florida
It's weird when a book takes place in a neighborhood you know incredibly well, but is in a universe you've heard about but don't recognize, populated by alcoholic, bigoted police officers. Buried on Avenue B has a second location, Sarasota, Florida, which is not far from Tampa, where I went to grad school. The people in the Publix grocery stores in Sarasota are depicted as nicer than the ones I encountered in Tampa, but there was one commonality--old men bagging groceries. De Jonge assumes they're doing it for the minimum wage. In my naivete, I want to believe it is for something to do.
An Irish woman in her mid-twenties spends a year (and a bit) working at an Orlando hotel and taking in the local attractions. She's a huge space program fan, and her description of the Kennedy Space Center made me want to visit. Her love of Disney isn't quite as compelling, to me, anyway. It's cute, though.