New York Restaurant
"The important thing here is that everything is important," he said.
I looked at him ponderously. We were sitting in an excellent New York restaurant. He was smoking a cigar, which I knew was illegal. I figured if anyone had a problem, they could take it up with him.
He put out the cigar when our food came. He munched heartily on steak and looked up solicitously to see if I was enjoying my pasta.
Through a mouthful he said, "Best steak in New York." The restaurant manager showed up at that point with a bottle of wine. He did everything to please us.
Back in those days, we were the kings of the New York restaurant circuit. And now look at me, nothing. Sometimes I yell out in my sleep for him to come back, to not get in that hot Caddy and blow up like he did.