A great guy who always had a story. Had dinner with him back in the '80s at a fancy-schmancy place in Chicago. At end of the dinner the waiter comes by with this special cart of after-dinner drinks and starts making his sales pitch, trying to impress us with, "There's only two bottles of this 1895 in the entire world," yada, yada.
Just for kicks, I suspect, Miller, who was as down-home as they come, says, "Let me ask you something. How much is that one?"
The waiter responds with something like, "This one here is . . . nine hundred and fifty dollars, sir."
Miller says, "I don't have enough friends to share a bottle like that," and the waiter comes back with, "That is not for the bottle, sir. That's for a shot."
Miller looked at the waiter as though he had two heads.
RIP.
