Because of its devotional, graceful attraction to food and gardens and architecture, Charleston stands for all the principles that make living well both a civic virtue and a standard.
A random Saturday might find Conroy perusing the antiques shops of King Street; his favorite is  Birlant’s, which has held reign for more than 80 years and is the scene of a poignant car crash in South of Broad. His favorite restaurants tend to be simple and traditional southern kitchens like  Jestine’s and  Hominy Grill, both of which are unassuming and popular, though Conroy does head north occasionally to visit  SNOB, as in Slightly North of Broad, a trendy restaurant of choice among ladies who lunch and those with power.
Strolling and sitting are two favorite pastimes in Charleston, and Conroy himself likes wandering — mostly down Church, Meeting, Legare, and Tradd streets, where he stops to take in the quiet amidst the graveyards of  St. Philip’s Church and  Saint Michael’s Church (at the corner of Broad and Meeting streets), which also appears in the novel.
Broad Street intersects King Street, and much is located south of Broad. Conroy’s title is a nod to this — and to the affluent and historical parts of the city peopled by those who are SOBers, as they are good-naturedly known. At the corner of King and Broad is  Berlin’s Clothing Store, another of the nonfictional locales noted in the new book. Even retail in Charleston is historic, as Berlin’s has been there since 1883. Also mentioned are  Burbage’s Self Service Grocery at 157 Broad and East Bay Street’s  Big John’s Tavern, the city’s best dive bar since 1955 and one that is frequented by Conroy.