On his first British tour, he used to study the evening paper nightly and check to see if there had been any fluctuation in rates of exchange

He [Chuck Berry] was arrogant, rude. When he liked to turn it on, he could be most charming, but often he couldn't be bothered. First and last, he was amazingly mean.

There's an authenticated story about him that, on his first British tour, he used to study the evening paper nightly and check to see if there had been any fluctuation in rates of exchange. If there was any deviation in his favour, no matter how small, he'd demand payment in cash before he went on. On one night, this supplement came to 2s. 3 1/2d.

Still, all of this is irrelevant when you hear his records again.   

N. Cohn, Awopbopaloobop, Awopamboom (1969), 36

For second-class money you get a second-class song

Yet no matter how accurate, original, sharp and funny his songs, the man [Chuck Berry] was hard to love: 'The dollar dictates what music is written' was his mantra. He would duck-walk across the stage in a strange, crouched shuffle, and seemed disdainful of his audience. He was the least charming of the original rockers, rude and incredibly tight-fisted. Publicising his biography on British TV in the eighties, he was asked if he could play his signature tune, 'Johnny B. Goode'. 'No,' he said. 'For second-class money you get a second-class song,' and he played 'Memphis, Tennessee' instead.

B. Stanley, Yeah yeah yeah: the story of modern pop (2013), 56-7