You’re probably wondering what I’m doing here in Plaza Vieja, Havana. This isn’t my usual hang out; rather this is a tourist hot spot with a beautiful church on one end and a number of popular restaurants plus a microbrewery at the other. I’m here because it seems I’ve been drafted into a crusade of sorts.
The last thing I remember was being groomed for a big occasion, a cockfight with metal spurs attached to my heels. It was a frenetic affair, and I was giving better than I got until something happened; the lights went out.
When I woke, I met Donna here. Yes, she was bald and naked then too.
She said she was on a sacred quest, and it was my duty to assist her. Then she put on her high heels, grabbed her fork and jumped onto my back.
Of course, I was startled. I’m not used to having people ride me, but I took it in stride. There was one thing I couldn’t get my head around, and so I had to ask her. “What’s with the high heels?”
“Well”, she said, “I didn’t have any spurs, so this is the next best thing.”
That made sense; so, if there was a purpose in that, then I had to ask the next most obvious thing, “Why did you shave your head, and why are you naked? Did you lose a bet?”
“Don’t be silly;” she responded, “I am on a sacred quest and don’t want any physical encumbrances or distractions. If I was wearing a tight dress, I wouldn’t be able to ride, and a loose one would flap everywhere and get in the way. The same goes for my hair. This is better.”
“So” she continued, “will you join me in my quest? Will you be my steed as I traverse Cuba in the execution of this quest?”
“And the alternative is?” I asked.
“You will find yourself back in the cockfight ring, on your back, with a spur through your neck and only a cooking pot in your future.”
It didn’t take me long to respond: “Ok, I’m your cock… or rather steed.”
“Excellent” she purred.
“If I’m to accompany you in this quest, I need to know your name and what the quest is.”
“My name is Donna Maria Quixote; I am the sous-chef at the fanciest hotel in Havana, but this morning there was an explosion caused by our French fry machine and I woke up in the devastated kitchen with a revelation. Good taste is what civilizes mankind, but so many of my compatriots are mediocre; are barbarians that have sold their souls to make tourists their hamburgers and French fries. So, I have made it my holy quest to search out these purveyors of bad taste and make them fork over their most prized possession, their chef’s hat.”
Author’s note: This statue by Roberto Fabelo is found in the Plaza Vieja, Havana, Cuba.