While I was working at a nightclub in Canada, the show’s headliner, comedian Jack Carter, made a lasting impression on me. It was 1958.
He knocked on our dressing room door before the first show, announcing: “If any of you would like to join me for Chinese food after the last show,. it’s my treat.”
I responded, “Thank you. We will discuss it, and I will see you between shows.” He replied, “Great, see you later.”
I asked the other dancers,“ Have you ever been to a Chinese restaurant?” Nancy answered, “I have seen people eating Chinese food out of little white boxes with chopsticks in romantic movies.” Helen shrugged and said, “That does not count.”
It was showtime, so the conversation was over. I had significant questions and knew Jack would have the answers. I needed to talk to him before I made a crucial decision.
I had to summon up the courage to explain my concerns to Jack. I asked, “Can I talk to you confidentially?” He replied, “Absolutely.”
I said, “Before I went on the road with the dance troupe at seventeen, my parents warned me, ‘Marlene, never go to a Chinese restaurant. They will kidnap you and put you on a slave ship to China. You will never be seen again!’”
Jack was so respectful. He assured me I would be safe, putting my fears to rest. Four of us joined Jack.
He ordered a different dish for each of us and taught us to eat with chopsticks. Sue unwrapped one of the hot little towels on the table, thinking there was something to eat inside. I don’t remember when I laughed so much.
Soon after Jack left, my parents visited. We had a pleasant conversation. They even agreed to go for Chinese food, quickly learning to eat with chopsticks.
Jack kept my secret. Whenever I order Chinese food, I smile as I remember him and the memorable evening. He was a true gentleman, a gifted performer with a big heart who created laughter and fun for everyone.
