Becoming a chef

My ego ballooned in Spain, I wrote my first menu, cooked for a famous writer, a self proclaimed king of capitalism, even a 80's rock star. People told me about how good my food was so often that my response wanted to be simply I know.
Certain the path to improvement was through pro actively seeking criticism. I hunted out feedback to a point where people couldn't just say they liked a meal. The poor customer had to tell me something negative. Once I pressed for what I could have done to improve your dining experience, and a guy put me in my place by telling me "you could have given me a foot massage while i ate".
I deserved that but also to get drunk after a busy service, discovering I could do 20 to 30 meals in 2 to 3 hours solo was proof I was the man. I am still too proud about this and brag whenever possible. A friend of the owner put a glowing review online about the restaurant and I became the famous Kiwi chef of the Lecrin valley.
By the time I turned up in Chamonix my ex boss had told me I was too good to be a chalet cook.
Full of arrogance I was able to get away with punching my boss and continuously working hung over or drunk . My menu's were better than the standard expected in most chalets, I mastered the high altitude souffle and never served a pasta meal while blatantly ignoring my budget and using a bottle of "cooking" bourbon a week. I often reminisce on having the time of my life in Chamonix , partying every night, snowboarding everyday and working just enough to survive.
The season ended and I hitch hiked to the boats with 200 euro in my pocket and ample confidence.