Close your eyes and picture the American dream. At the turn of the millennium, Mokhtar Alkhanshali, the scion of Yemeni immigrants, is growing up in a tiny one-bedroom San Francisco apartment sandwiched between two sex shops. Outside, the streets are mean: sirens shriek and so do residents, dealers deal in the open 24/7; the day his family moves in, Mokhtar sees a guy shitting on the hood of a Mercedes. By his early twenties he’s lucky to have a job as a lobby ambassador (that’s doorman to you) in a fancy tower block called Infinity B, even though the…