Lunch at restaurant El Porton

Sunday lunch started normally. The El Porton is located in a suburb of Guadalajara called Tlaquepaque [tlah key PAH key]. Think of a Mexican Denny's. Kay ordered a coconut&chicken plate with some mashed potatoes with a mild red chili gravy (a weird sauce) . Me, I am in the land of Montezuma. So I go for the tortilla (Aztec) soup with guacamole on the side. So far so good. We ordered the coka zero. Now understand, two cold coka zeros arrive with three glasses. Two empty, one with ice. The idea being if you need ice, cool, just share. Put it in the empty glasses. I really don't need ice, the coke is cold. Kay gets the ice.

One must understand with a meal at Denny's south, and most restaurants of this ilk, they don't throw napkins around like there is no tomorrow. The rule is, one person, one napkin, and there really small, thin and not very absorbent. Lunch comes and we start.

The guac is smooth, the chips are crisp, the tortillas warm. I go after the soup. Well it's not long, I start to cough. I now notice, not only are my throat, tongue and lips on fire , I have somehow managed to rub my eyes ... which have now started to water profusely. With no way to see my bride sitting 3 feet away. I now reach for the lonely napkin laying some where to my left. When a voice passes through my hearing aids saying your face is red, go figure.

As fate would have it, yes, over goes all of my coka zero because I had managed to pour the complete contents of the can in said glass. Remember as I stated, I am the one who needs no ice.

Kay jumps to avoid the coka zero,since it heads directly at her. Me, I haven't a clue since I am blind because my eyes are now full of tears. I can't see ANYTHING. I manage to feel around and find my napkin. Place it in what looks like a light brown lake.

Remember our previous conversation concerning the napkins. Well folks, Bounty or the quicker-picker-upper this ain't. Kay adds her napkin to the lake. I reach for my back left pocket surely my nose blower is at the ready. Not a chance ... left that at home. I look through my very watery eyes for a waiter, NOWHERE IN SIGHT.

Here we sit. It's time for the old standby ... my sleeve. At least now I can see.

Remember God only gives us a certain number of days, I don't plan no wasting the ones I have left.

Until we talk again.

Mike