“One day, two large wooden crates appeared on our front porch,” Jim began telling me, “the address labels indicating they’d been shipped by Bill. He sent us a few dozen bottles of spectacularly good wine. I called and asked him what prompted him to send them to us, and he said, ‘Dorothy and I had an inventory problem in our wine cellar, and we needed to make room for some new bottles. We thought you could help us out by taking some of it off our hands.’” Bill has mastered the art of getting people to accept his generosity, somehow framing it as if you were doing him a favor. Bill was not just
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