So red wine consumption in Jamaica is not really.. something that is catered to. But a true oenophile, like myself, adapts. One adapts perhaps by ordering a refreshing tropical glass of red wine sangria. And when one learns that is not an option, one inquires about a nice chilled red, perhaps a delicious Crianza. No? Not to worry then, Beaujolais maybe? And when one learns they’ve never heard of this in Jamaica, one says ohhh fuck it, i will give this warm, nearly coagulated Chilian red, stored upright in an unairconditioned Jamaican bodega a swirl. And even the sticky nearly poisonous tendrils i see clinging to my glass cannot demoralize me, because I’m with my very best buds in the whole world and my amazing mother and dammit, this is how one turns 40 in proper style. Rappy, Brin, Gwennie, mom, you made me feel so special and ill remember this birthday forever. And by way of the hole I’m certain it ate in my stomach, this wine, as well.