Wine Whine

I've never been drunk. I've barely ever even had much alcohol to drink. I can probably count the number of beers I've had in my life on two hands, and I've only finished about two of them (more out of boredom than any desire to do so).

Herr Marlboro did teach me an appreciation for Spanish Rioja, and Turbo gave it his best shot by mixing me girlie drinks that had juice or Malibu in them. But alcohol never interested me much, probably because it was never really verboten when I was a kid. My older sister was not the best-behaved teenager, and because she could have gotten me pretty much any illicit substance, there was no attraction to it. Plus, she was such a behavior-nightmare that I turned out squeaky clean just to make life less hard on my long-suffering mother. Then when I got to college and watched everyone go crazy once they were out from under their parents' thumbs—well, I just rolled my eyes and went about my business. Which seems to have been seeing as many bands as possible and playing records on the community radio station, rather than studying, so it's not like I actually came out ahead due to my disinterest in alcoholic substances. But I digress.

So why is it that I cannot wait for British Airways to offer me wine in nine days?

Kuwait is a "dry" country. You can't get alcohol here through legal channels (except at embassies). You can't get bacon either, even though you can in some other Muslim countries, simply by going to the non-Muslim section of the supermarket.

Like most people, the way to make me want something is to tell me that I cannot have it.

So yeah, wine. For the first time in my life, when offered wine on an airplane, I'm going to say yes. And I'm going to enjoy drinking it.

I wonder if they'll serve ham sandwiches for lunch.