They call it Pueblo Viejo because if you walk to old town
in San Juan Puerto Rico during the
warm and humid month of Junio you age 5 years per mile
I walked 2 miles and I am not smiling,
I am gritting my teeth while I pant
I tried to wrestle this homemade unicycle loose,
But my husband told me it was an art installation
When I saw Burger King I knew cold pop
and hot french fries would save my life
Me: Let me order for us in Spanish
Husband: (doubtful wrinkled brow) Are you sure?
Me: Si. Es fácil.
Husband: (Brow wrinkles deepen) Good, because I need to use the facilities.
I approach the register and smile cheerfully in my best friendly-American manner.
Me: Por favor, un doble whopper con queso.
Burger King niño: With cheese?
My eyes narrow to a squint as I size up the annoyingly self assured youth across the counter. So, it's going to be like this is it? I speak bad Spanish and you counter with good English. Muy bien Senor, muy bien.
Me: Si, con queso pero sin caballos
Burger King niño: You don't want horses?
Me: What? I mean ¿Qué? Oh, I, I mean pero sin cebollas
Burger King niño: (Cracking a condescending pimply smile.) Ohhhhh, you don't want onions. Will that be all?
Me: No. (Nervous clearing of throat) También, numero tres con queso, un medio
Burger King niño: Number three with cheese, medium?
Me: Yeah, that's right. A number three and quit pretending that you didn't understand every syllable of my perfectly accented español 101.
Burger King niño: ¿Qué? Yo no le comprendo.
Me: Well played, mi amigo. Well played.