Vinnie

Vinnie was a hefty, hairy man, dense black hairs creeping out from under his shirt, encircling his entirely bare arms, and he sweated profusely — there were always beads of sweat ringing his forehead. Earlier today, Nathan had been standing there when Vinnie reached up to grab a pan from above the stove, and since he wore a sleeveless shirt beneath his apron, that bared his armpit. Nathan had been close enough to get a whiff of rankness, but at least then it had been covered up by the smell of garlic and sausage sizzling in the pans already on the stove.

From The Redneck Ex-Con