it was around 8 or 9 years ago when I was attending a community studies program at a local college. I had just met my now wife, and we were members of a group working on a fundraising project.
Our group decided to do a BBQ to raise money for victims of a recent flood. All the supplies were donated, all we needed was to provide the BBQ and fuel. I had an older BBQ and decided to loan it for the cause.
I had asked a friend of mine with a truck to deliver my BBQ to the site. Unknown to me, he failed to tether the thing in the back of his truck, and ended up losing the ‘Q on the highway. When we started the thing up, we had flames going everywhere.
Here we were with a lineup of hungry customers, and no way to control the fire other than turning off the gas. We had over 30 weiners on the grill, all blackened from the flames.
At first we figured we cut our losses and go home, but given the need for funds by community members, I came up with a plan.
“Cajun Dogs, Get you Cajun Dogs” I chanted. The crowded parking lot suddenly got even busier, as a bus load of kids from a remote community hauled into the lot. Kids got out and began running towards us.
“Wow, we never even heard of a cajun dog before” expressed one kid, as he bit into the burned weiner. The buns were even more charred. Soon, everyone on the bus and even some of the other people were lined up for our unique food.
We cleared $1500 after the sale ended. Of course my BBQ was trash, but we managed to help the community, and I ended up with a funny story to tell my friends.