'Yah in Jamayyyca!"

In Montego Bay, there was this barbecue hut down by the beach, and around lunch time (basically 10a.m. to dinner time), there would be this huge guy named Delroy who'd be cooking up chicken, and ribs with jerk sauce-freaking amazing. Jerk chicken and Red Stripe beer is a meal for kings. Or beach bums. King or bum, or King of Bums, whichever you are, you need to try it.

One day,around lunch time, Heather and I were laying around on the beach and I went to get us some jerk chicken from Delroy the barbecuing giant. I came back with heaping plates of delicious, only to see me frosty bottle of Red Stripe sitting there with the cap on it. So I head back to the hut, and I see the line around the building...and it's just Delroy back there to serve all those hungry people. If it was me, I'd be freaking out-rushing around, trying to get it all done, cursing my boss for not giving me another employee to take care of the line, and so on...

So I felt bad, but come on...the beer...any way, I cut to the front of the line, and I was peering over the counter, hoping to find a bottle opener so I wouldn't have to bother Delroy, and then I noticed him-he's joking around, that perpetual grin on his face, oblivious to how stressed out he should be with all those people, and it's infectious-everyone in line, instead of being impatient, is laughing, talking, just hanging out until they get to the front.

Delroy snapped me out of my daze of revelation by asking me (with his trademark grin) what I needed. I sheepishly held up my beer and asked if there was a bottle opener. He took my beer and his grin got even bigger. As he used his spatula to pop the top off he told me something that I'll think of every time I get stressed:

"Dere's alwayys a bott-el openah! Ya' in Jamayyycah!"

I walked back, refreshed by the beer and enlightened by his words.

Thank you, giant sage, for your words of wisdom.