Though rare by comparison, numbering a mere million, their presence can be felt all over the world. You see glimpses of it all the time, a flash of red in the corner of the eye, gone just as quickly. Sometimes they slip; accents slipping out mid-sentence, giving them away for a brief moment. These people have "a look" too, that despite being of different races, you can often tell by looking at them, the truth that lies more than just skin deep. It's almost like the Matrix, like the agents......they know who they are, they know each other, but you can't tell by looking at them, until they want you to know.
Their fanaticism is infectious, their love of their own culture, inspiring, and despite varied religious backgrounds, all worship one thing........the lime.
These people are known by one name: Trinis. A word that invokes so much more than just an island nation in the Caribbean; it is a state of mind, a common sensibility, a culinary experience, a cultural diaspora. I proudly count myself as one of these, and despite where I find myself from day to day, a TRINI I'll always be. (Oh shit, it rhyme O.o).
So how is it that I managed to find myself at a Superbowl lime of all things? Simple, as a TRINI, I like to lime.......period. I have no interest in American football whatsoever, but in nearly ten years here, I have never missed a Superbowl lime......never. After being here this long, I now understand the vagaries and complexities of the sport but do I give a fuck? No.
I was there for the camaraderie, for the ole talk, the fun, the food, the alcohol..........I was there to lime.