He was the same jerk who got bent out of shape when he discovered that for decades our company would give our principle clients a nice Christmas gift with a note thanking them for their business. He sent all of the clients a letter saying that we would no longer give such gifts and he asked them to stop sending us gifts too. To tell Mexican customers they cannot give a gift was a terrible insult and they let him know it through letters and calls. He quickly ended his new policy and back we went to gift-giving. In the meantime, the clients gave him a new nick-name that they called him from then on and it was not complimentary.
"We once had a buttoned-down jerk of a general manager in Mexico who was a stickler for "politically correct" office wear. He sent out a memo to all employees telling the females that wearing pants was prohibited and severe penalties would result if they continued to break that rule. Ordinarily, the females at the office were mice with no guts, but the day after the memo, they all showed up in pants, even his own secretary. He quickly rescinded the order."
Bikini bottoms would have scored much higher!
For their honeymoon in 1964, my parents went to New Orleans.
For lunch one day, they decided to eat at the Court of Three Sisters, an extraordinarily swanky restaurant second only to the Commander's Palace.
Back in the day, the Sisters wouldn't allow any woman in pants to enter, so my mother took off her pants right there in the street outside the restaurant. Good thing she was wearing a slightly long shirt.
(Now y'all know where I get my chutzpah and my legs from.)