Hold Your Horses

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.