While attending culinary school decades ago I took a part time job in a French restaurant. I worked early prep and sautee station. We did table side service
on a lot of items especially desserts. We were close to a civic center and drew most of the personalities/preformers after show.
The waiters used to knock down the big bucks. At least a weeks pay in a night. I bothered anyone and everyone for 6 months to let me on the floor.
My chance came on Saturday night. I befriended an older French waiter and he let me run back waiter for him. Basically set up the gueridons for him and
Well it's around 10pm and we had done 3 tables and I was loving it because they were Frenchies regulars. Civic Center call and tells us Frank Sinatra
and friends will be in at 11.30. Frenchie and I pull Mr. Sinatras table w/ friends and a table of six, I guess some type of back up singers. All gourgeous and dressed
in the Southern Bell type of dresses. OK move on. Service went well and I seemed to have a better rapport with the girls then Frenchie. Feeling very cocky
and trying to impress, I talked Frenchie into letting me do the desserts for the girls. I had 2 stoves going on the gueridon and on the bottom shelf was all the
different brandies. Back then it was typical to do some flailing of arms while cooking and liting to give it a little show. Everything was perfect!!!.. I lit a match and flamed
both pans!!!! Girls, oooing and ahhhhing. I take the match and swipe it down to the floor to put it out. I am sooo cool! They love the young guy!!!! The next thing,
when I look down, I see smoke and small flames. Seems as though I had caught one of the girls dresses with all the frilly petticoats on fire. Well now I'm one the
floor slapping this poor girls dress. Bear hugging her legs so it would not spread up. Girls screaming. I am 10 feet from Mr. Sinatra.
well needless to say, I did not even show for a scheduled shift although I was probably was immediately scratched off. Never even looked up Frenchie again.
My biggest flubb.