Lost In the Translation

Lost in the Translation “Donnez-moi un verre de vin” My accent seemed strange at the Paris café They brought me an entire carafe of wine And I drank it all to my escort’s dismay When I asked, “Ou est la salle de bain?” Le confused garcon led me to the alleyway “Où sont les toilettes?” I tried again “C'est à l'hôtel,” was all he could say Groaning, “Sacré bleu, PARDON MY FRENCH!” I spun and jogged miles to my hotel in haste Two thousand for airfare, far more for a tutor Such an investment seems quite a “waste” When all you want is to relieve yourself And still cannot locate the proper place *Assigned phrase for Deborah’s contest: PARDON MY FRENCH