LOTS of Pump Room memories and we haven't even gotten to everyone's Pump Room padre, Arturo Petterino. I spent a stylish New Year's Eve with the legendary matrie d' at the tiny Mondelli's Lounge on Rush Street. I'll excerpt some 1996 oral histories with Arturo in a minute, but here's a great story shared by reader Jim Mueller:
The Pump Room. My 1970s friend Jerry Phillips, an aging rake at 55, picked up the damndest girls back in the day. He'd drink too much, then go home with the cute gal who'd hidden her left hand all night in a jacket pocket. They'd be jumping at it hammer and tong. She'd hoist herself up in the saddle. He'd invariably look over to see...no hand! There were others with glass eyes and wooden legs--and each time Jim wouldn't notice until waaaaay too late in the negotiation.
Decades before the current Cougar Phenomenon, Jerry would occasionally troll for lonely older ladies. One of his favorite fishing holes was the bar at the Pump Room....