Let me just tell you something. I'm a big fan of Willie Brown. About 20 years ago, I found myself at some very nice restaurant in SF (Gary Danko, maybe?) about to be seated, and in walks Willie Brown. On his left arm was about the hottest blonde I'd ever seen, and on his right arm was about the hottest Black woman I'd ever seen (maybe it was Kamala--I don't know). Anyway, he goes to the maitre d', asks for a table, says he doesn't have a reservation, and gets seated in about five minutes.
So fucking baller.
Anyway, during that five minutes, I went up and introduced myself. My father knew him from various things, and he pretended that he gave a shit who I was. Which was really remarkable given his company. I wouldn't have given a shit who I was. Anyway, I joked with him that he was probably going to get my table.
He did.
Then he went to his table and ordered a bottle of champagne. And when I got seated 15 minutes later, he sent a bottle over to my table.
That was cool.