The story goes that a polite young lady journalist invited him to lunch at Chasen's in hope of a story. Lunch in his case was a liquid affair, and left him uncommunicative. Noticing the passion with which he shooed away the hovering waiter with the ice water jug, she seized an opening. Mr. Fields, could you tell me the reason for your well-known aversion to water? Delighted, my dear, he replied with suddenly increased bonhomie. Never touch the stuff—very unhealthy. Fish fuck in it.