Bill at the Vintage Restaurant in Cambridge

We would like to thank Jeff for contributing today’s story.

In 1985, I was involved in the Vintage Restaurant in Harvard Square (Cambridge MA). We were chosen to serve a luncheon for Bill who was Hasty Pudding Man of the Year.¹ Bill arrived late and climbed the stairs of our three-decker, to our function room on the third floor. “Hello Bill” I said. “Welcome to the Vintage”.

“Are you the chief here?” He asked. “No Bill” I said, “I’m just one of the Indians”.

At that moment, Bill spotted a kid, about 17 years old, wearing work clothes and standing off to the side. He was the son of one of the secretaries who worked for our landlord in the second floor real estate office. His mother had told him that Bill would be walking up those stairs at some point that morning; he had gotten there early and waited for hours.

Bill turned back to the waiting staff and I, said “Excuse me a minute”.

Then he walked right up to this kid and said, “You look like my biggest fan”. I swear I could see daylight between this kids sneakers and the floor. Bill stood there talking to him for a few minutes before he came in to the function room; he was as charming and funny as you can imagine he is. Bill Murray is a very classy guy.

¹The Woman of the Year for 1985? Cher.

Chicago’s Own, Fitted for Suits at a Haberdashery

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 :D