Posh restaurant. Flipped lettuce. Grinning friend.
Backstory
At age seventeen I worked week-ends washing dishes at a fish restaurant. To give me a break and introduce me to really fine restaurant fare, one of the waitresses (my high school art and English teacher) treated me to an evening meal in a lavish Nashville restaurant. I placed the linen napkin in my lap, picked up the silver salad fork, and attempted to cut into the lettuce wedge on the crystal plate before me. The entire wedge flipped into the air and onto the floor. Her graciousness in not laughing at me is a model of compassion and self-control that I still cherish forty-plus years later.
If we print your submission, you'll win a t-shirt with your memoir printed on it.
