We’d like to thank George for sharing the following story.
This is from a co-worker I knew from 20 years ago. He was a younger man in Chicago, working for a haberdashery (custom-made suits, etc.), and, one quiet day, in walks none-other-than The Second City’s favorite son, Bill Murray – unannounced, no entourage, no pretense, very low-key and affable, natch.
Murray mentions he’s interested in a few suits, as well as anything else that suits his fancy. So, taking their time and shooting the breeze, several hours have passed as Murray is in the midst of a suit-fitting (with measuring tape, chalk, the whole nine-yards).
Around lunchtime, he realizes he’s hungry. Without hesitation, he procures a phone (this is pre-cell phone days) from the manager of the shop and calls in a large order of take out from a local deli – the works – for the entire staff.
They leisurely eat and then finish the fitting. He purchases several suits to be made, a number of shirts, and quite a bit of other extras, earning my co-worker a sweet commission. And, without a doubt, Murray was a sweetheart – but this was his pre-“Bigfoot/Elvis” like-sightings, so there’s no trace of the catchphrase ‘no one will ever believe you‘. Nice to see he’s like Santa too