The George Lustig and the Cognac Story

1975

A True Story Written 1/2012* 958 Words* By Howard Yasgar

In 1975, I had already traveled from Miami to Chicago several times.

There were a couple of companies that had warehouses located on Canal Street I would go to see.

One of the companies I went to see was Fleet Supply, they specialized in purchasing all types of excess and surplus truck parts.

Fleet Supply was financed by Bobby Keene and it was managed by George Lustig.

My reason for going to Fleet Supply was to buy and ship surplus auto parts to Miami for

my export customers.

I would walk up and down the warehouse isles looking for my type of merchandise.

As I did this, I would occasionally run into other customers, who, like me, were looking for the various types of surplus items Fleet Supply specialized in.

On this trip, I happened to bump into another fellow who was from Texas. He said he was in Chicago buying surplus truck brake parts.

I had recalled seeing him once or twice before. He was about 35 years old, and was wearing cowboy boots, a western cowboy hat, and a big silver belt buckle.

On this day, both of us were done with our shopping by early afternoon.

So, that’s when George suggested that we follow him to their “break room”, which was in the rear of the Fleet Supply warehouse.

Before we entered the break room, George opened another door, and inside the room was a big wrought iron bakers rack, with all kinds of expensive gifts on the shelves.

I recognized some items as expensive perfumes, and there were several bottles of liquor like Crown Royal and Chivas Regal.

There were also several bottles of expensive-looking wine that I knew nothing about.

What caught my attention was on the bottom shelf, there was a cognac bottle with a handwritten label on it and a bent bottle neck.

George said, help yourself with whatever you guys want.

I was a little miffed, as I felt it was improper for George to be offering me an expensive gift for doing business with him, and I told him so.

I told George that I felt it was an improper thing to do, I was a business owner and he didn’t need to bribe me to do business with him, I would much prefer he lowered the prices on some of the items I had purchased.

The Texan nodded in agreement with me.

But it didn’t phase George a bit, he just closed the door and led us into the next doorway which was the “break room” and George said, “Have a seat”.

The break room was like a mini pantry with kitchen type cabinets and an oil cloth covered picnic table that could have seated about eight people.

I went around to the other side of the picnic table and I sat down. The Texan sat down right across from me.

George went over to one of the overhead cabinets and took out another identical Cognac bottle, like the one with a bent neck I had seen on the baker’s rack.

The bottle had a handwritten label in French, and I recognized George’s name written on it.

George put two shot glasses down in front of me and the Texan, and he poured them both half full.

George said, “just wait until you taste this Cognac”.

He said “This is the world’s best Cognac, I bought a case of it ten years ago from France, it was made special for me, and it cost me over $700.00 a bottle back then, each bottle is worth thousands of dollars now.

I said, “George, I saw a bottle of this same Cognac on the bottom shelf of the baker’s rack, what would you have done if I picked it as my gift?

George said, yes, you are right, someone put it there by mistake, it shouldn’t be there. But if you had chosen it, I wouldn’t have liked it, but I would have given it to you. I only have these two bottles left and they are now, as I said, probably worth thousands of dollars.

With that having been said, George told us to drink up.

I did and so did the Texan.

It was absolutely the worst crap I had ever tasted.

I looked in the Texans face, as he was sitting across from me. His eyes were crossed and from his facial expression, I hoped he wasn’t going to spit the Cognac up on me.

George said, “Well what did you think”?

We both said it was excellent; it was the best Cognac we ever tasted. I could see the Texan was doing everything to keep from laughing.

George said, I only have these two bottles left, and they are irreplaceable at any price.

He said, “I had a third bottle that I kept at home, it was in a cardboard sleeve, and I kept it hid in a cabinet under my bar.

I had it there for 10 years, I was saving it for a special occasion.

One evening I had some very important people over and I told them all about the Cognac, but when I removed it from the cardboard sleeve the bottle was empty.

It appears my house maid, had been nipping at it over the years, she must have drank a little every week.