Darlene was a drop-out on a working holiday,

she started on a six-month tour around the U.S.A.

in Denver, in a diner out on highway thirty-three,

she served her first real customer, a man from Italy.

"I beg of you, some Grappa - or at least some Anisette?

A Pernod would be bella for to whistle down my wet,

and Ravioli Fungi for to make me feel at home,

I always ate the pasta when I lived in Southern Rome."

"I'm sorry, sir," said Darlene, "We ain't got no vino here,

it's just a crummy diner and we just serve crummy beer,

No pasta, pizza, Parmejarna, no Paella, too,

we have a yummy special, though, it's last week's chicken stew!"

In Idaho an Indian restaurant displayed an ad:

"A cookie with a flair for curry would not be half bad,"

so Darlene told some tiny fibs and joined their little team,

the first dish that she cooked - alas, 'twas apple pie and cream!

"We cannot use you as a chef, and serving food's not on,

it's only seven hours you're here, and all our clients - gone!"

"But all I cooked was curried beef, so I cannot see how,"

"Well, we are Hindu restaurant - and that was Sacred Cow!"

A big Oktoberfest in new Orleans gave her a chance,

she worked there as a bouncer at the nightly Oompah Dance,

the German boss said: "That was my friend Fritz that you threw out!"

"I'm sorry," answered Darlene, "He was just a sour Kraut!"

An English pub in Florida taught her to pull a beer,

"It doesn't come in bottles, luv, we like it frothy here,

you stick it in pint glasses and you serve it with a smile,

so play your cards right, don't forget it's just a two-day trial."

A pair of Scotsmen staggered in - both full of scotch and gripes,

"This pub requires music, lass, so Mac will play the pipes,"

but, as she got into the sound of Scottish Highland lilts,

she spilt a pint of English Ale all over both their kilts!

She found work in an Irish bar, near Forty-Second Street,

"Lord bless my soul, said Paddy, "How about this Summer heat?

Tis not like this in Dublin, fetch a pint of Guinness, dear,"

Poor Darlene didn't know the secret of that special beer!

She pulled the tap and out came froth, she tried it once again,

but froth was all that she could pull, her efforts were in vain,

she threw the fourteenth Guinness down the drain, then heard a shout:

"Begorra!" yelled the boss, "You're throwing God's own nectar out!"

She hitch-hiked home and walked inside - her Dad gave her a smile,

"So how's the big wide world out there? I bet you made a pile!"

"Financially...well no, I'm not cut out for serving plates,

but now I've seen the world - and never even left the States!"

more of my FUNNY POEMS here