Istorija apie tai, kaip Raymondui Loewy užsakė naują "Lucky Strike" pakelio dizainą

    One autumn day in 1940, a well-dressed, stocky, middle-aged gentleman of rudy complexion walked into our office unannounced, accompanied  by his chauffeur. "I am Mr. Hill" he said, "and I would like to see Mr. Loewy." My secretary, Miss Peters, showed him in. He walked in silently, looked at me carefully, and said, "I am George Washington Hill and I want to talk to you." Upon which he calmly removed his tweed jacket, displaying a magnificent pair of embroidered  suspenders. Turning to my secretary, he said "Do you mind, m'am, if I keep my hat on?" Beautiful Helen Peters smiled back. I was fascinated by felt hat, a battered affair, the rim of which was pierced by an assortment of trout-fishing hooks and flies.
    "My friend Albert Lasker tells me," he said, "that you don't like the Lucky Strike package. He also tells me that you 'think' you could design a better one. I don't believe it.  Besides, there is nothing wrong with the package."
    I remained silent so as politely emphasize the contrast between this negative statement and the fact that he was sitting opposite my desk. He looked at me for a while, than smiled, said "Très bien," and we were frieds. Without further ceremony, he pulled out of his pocket a lovely cigarette holder and other accessories made of smoked bamboo and yellow gold. "Cartier," he said. "Only the French could make this." I thought the things were really in good taste. Than, a lighter, also well designed.
    "And look at these suspenders! Cartier too."
    "So are these," I said, showing my own, which they had made for me.
    "Well," he said, "what about that package? Do you really believe you could improve it?"
    "I bet I could."
    "Bet what?"
    "Fifty thousand dollars." He remained silent an instant, looking out the French doors at the flowers on the terrace. He then took a memo pad from the polished desk, made a note in pencil, and threw it in front of me, where it spun like a roulette wheel and slowly came to halt, right side up. It read:

    LUCKY STRIKE package: March 14, 1940
    $ 20, 000 retainer
    If we use result
    $30, 000 more.
    G.W.H.

    "How's that?"
    "Very nice, Mr. Hill. Thanks."
    He then got up, put his jacket on, walked slowly in the direction of the door, between to Helen Peters, and then turned to me.
    "When you will be ready?" he said.
    "Oh, I don't know, some nice spring morning I will feel like designing the Lucky package and you'll have it in a matter of hours. I call you then."
    We shook hands and George Washington Hill left with his chauffeur.
    About five o'clock that evening the chauffeur returned with a package. It contained a carton of Luckies and George Washington Hill's card with a note penned in:
    "Put these under your pillow, and pleasant dreams. G.W.H."
(Iš Raymond Loewy knygos "Never leave well enough alone", 1951)