This very strange boast about Sinatra:
"He controls the menus of every Italian restaurant in Los Angeles; if you want North Italian cooking, fly to Milan...."
And his run in with a young Harlan Ellison, who was shooting pool while wearing a pair of boots Sinatra didn't like:
Then Sinatra moved away from the stool and walked with that slow, arrogant swagger of his toward Ellison, the hard tap of Sinatra's shoes the only sound in the room. Then, looking down at Ellison with a slightly raised eyebrow and a tricky little smile, Sinatra asked: "You expecting a storm?"Harlan Ellison moved a step to the side. "Look, is there any reason why you're talking to me?""I don't like the way you're dressed," Sinatra said."Hate to shake you up," Ellison said, "but I dress to suit myself."Now there was some rumbling in the room, and somebody said, "Com'on, Harlan, let's get out of here," and Leo Durocher made his pool shot and said, "Yeah, com'on."But Ellison stood his ground.Sinatra said, "What do you do?""I'm a plumber," Ellison said."No, no, he's not," another young man quickly yelled from across the table. "He wrote The Oscar.""Oh, yeah," Sinatra said, "well I've seen it, and it's a piece of crap.""That's strange," Ellison said, "because they haven't even released it yet.""Well, I've seen it," Sinatra repeated, "and it's a piece of crap."