From behind me, in a hoarse whisper coated with the stench of cheap rum, beer, and cask wine, I heard “Wine for me now Boy”. It was a woman who I had never met before. She was twice my age, her diminutive 5′ 1′ Indian body pressed up against my ogreish 6’4″ frame, and yet I had no choice but to comply. Any hopes of flight left me before the thought could even escape the ether of my mind. It was her next line that left me no other course of action. No choice but to wine and grind on her right then and there. You see, before I could reel from her stench, or even flinch, she whispered “I been watchin’ ya dance for hours now boy! I know ya can! You dance like a Trini man” I was trapped! I did what any man in my position celebrating carnival in Trinidad would do. I chugged the rest of my Carib, let my body and mind surrender to the soca beats coming from the music trucks, and I wined up on her…
