Grill Girl is Born

Cyndi Allison

I was sent to the garage to drag the heavy grill out and get the coals going. This was an honor. I was joining the ranks - destined for grilling greatness. My chest was puffed out with pride. Well, I didn’t really have a chest at that point, but you get the picture.

Getting Fired Up

After carefully stacking the little bricks of charcoal and liberally dousing them with lighter fluid I got a half bass fire going. This was not going so well.

I did the logical twelve-year-old thing and began squirting lighter fluid directly at my little fire. This is, of course, not recommended. It did result in some very impressive instant but temporary flames.

My last squirt was the most memorable. The fire ran up the stream of lighter fluid to the metal can and made a big BOOM with a gigantic flash. I had seen the light, and I had singed my eyebrows, eyelashes and the ends of my Farrah Fawcett hairdo.

Lessons Learned

I never did tell my Dad what I did, although he probably wondered about that sonic boom and the loud clang when I chucked the can about 100 feet down the driveway. I got a new and shorter haircut, an appreciation for safety, and thus was born Grill Girl.