Inspired by Bill Murray’s habit of living in the moment and taking the, “it just doesn’t matter attitude,” I decided to try and live my life like him. Bill was famous for just randomly showing up at someone’s house party and drinking with them. One time he invited a random stranger to join him at a Cub’s baseball game. And he once showed up at a party and started doing a stranger’s dishes. His ability to simply not care and to just live in the present, while also making someone’s day, has always been something I’ve admired. I realized that you didn’t need to be famous to live the way Bill Murray does. So, as an attempt to improve my mundane lifestyle, I decided to implement Bill Murray’s philosophy into my own life. It didn’t go well.
While attending my best friend’s wedding on Ohio State’s campus, I decided to take an uncharacteristic detour during the photo shoot for the groomsmen and roam the campus. Living the Bill Murray lifestyle, I played a round of Frisbee golf with some freshmen, shared a coffee with a few beatnik kids and smoked some hookah with some stoners. It felt great to do whatever I felt like doing. I was living in the moment and it was fun. I noticed my friend had called me a dozen times and had left several messages asking me where I was. The wedding started in a few minutes, but I couldn’t care less. I loosened my tie and tossed my phone in a bush. I continued on my journey with a very clear conscious.
I arrived at a house party without a care in the world. I walked into the living room, gave a few people a pat on the back and cracked open a cold beer. I chugged it and threw the can across the room. I walked up to the disc jockey and demanded he play Chris Isaak’s, “Wicked Game.” He turned it on and everybody stopped dancing and acted confused. I grabbed the first girl I saw and took her onto the dance floor. We swayed back and forth and she seemed really amused. All of a sudden, I felt a very aggressive hand on the back of my shoulder. I turned around and immediately got a fist to the face by a lineman on the football team. I fell to the floor, and started bleeding heavily from my nose. He proceeded by grabbing me by the crotch and dragging me out to the porch. He knelt down and whispered in my ear, “If I ever see you dance with my girl again, I’ll break every bone in your body.” He shut the front door and the disc jockey turned it back to some shit music.
“It’s just a hiccup in the process,” I said to myself as I picked myself up off the porch and headed down the campus sidewalk. I came across a very rundown bar, with dim lights and a tough crowd of guests. I decided to go in for a beer and hopefully a positive Bill Murray experience. I sat down at the bar and struck up a conversation with a guy named, Anthony. He told me he was from New York and that he was in Columbus on business. He reminded me a little of Al Pacino from The Godfather. He had some dark circles under his eyes and was dressed in an expensive suit. He didn’t really seem like he wanted to talk, but I knew Bill Murray would try and have a conversation. I asked him about New York and his business, but he refused to tell me many details. I pleaded, “Please Anthony, tell me a little bit about yourself.” He quickly grabbed me by the hand and started speaking in Italian. He peered deep into my eyes and touched the tip of my soul. I was terrified by what I was seeing and my hand was growing numb from the strength of his grip. He threw money on the bar and left the building.
I had seen an online video of Bill Murray randomly bartending, so I went behind the bar and started pouring drinks for some of the patrons. I did this for about fifteen minutes before the manager came out and beat me with a baseball bat. He knocked out several of my teeth and shattered my knee, before dragging me out into the street by my neck tie. At this point, I started to question my journey, but I truly believed that my ass-beatings were all apart of the process. I gathered myself and continued walking around the Ohio State campus. I wondered around for about an hour, only stopping to photo bomb a couple of photographers. I ended up back at the wedding venue and thought it would be very much like Bill Murray to just walk into the reception and start dancing, as if nothing had ever happened.
I entered the venue, spewing blood from my mouth and completely unfit for the event. The music abruptly stopped and everyone stared at me. The groom came over and asked me if everything was okay and I explained to him that I had taken a spiritual journey around campus. He was not pleased with my response and called over the entire wedding party. They proceeded to beat the hell out of me with party favors. The groom’s great-grandmother came over and took a few violent shots at me with her cane before stabbing me in the back with her dentures. The bride beat me with a bouquet of flowers, which I must have been allergic to because my eyes immediately began to swell. To make matters worse, the ring bearer (a four year old child) repeatedly kicked me in the testicles until I couldn’t feel my groin region. I was told to leave the wedding and my parking voucher was revoked.
So far, my journey was not going as planned. I was also getting incredibly weak from the loss of blood and constant ass beatings. I walked into the park near the library and fell asleep. I woke up hours later inside a bag. I could hear men discussing what to do with my body. All of the ideas ended with me dying. I panicked and started to hurl my body around inside the bag. They eventually opened it up and I discovered I was sitting next to a river outside of town. Anthony was standing over me with a gun. A few other guys, in ski masks, were standing there as well and they were holding various weapons. Anthony told me he was with the mob and that I had asked too many questions about his business. I tried explaining but he was in no mood to listen. He ordered one of the men to take me down to the shoreline and dump me in the river. They placed me back in the bag and someone picked me up and threw me over their shoulder.
I couldn’t see the person carrying me, but I could tell he was in a good mood, as he kept whistling show tunes as he walked down the river bank. I started to hear his footsteps in the water and knew my time was about to come to an end. I pleaded from the bag to let me go, but he kept whistling. He laid me down on the river’s edge and opened up the bag. I begged one last time that he do the right thing and just let me swim away. He looked at me, staring intensely through the holes in his ski mask. Then, he slowly removed his ski mask and I couldn’t believe who I was seeing. It was Bill Murray. THE Bill Murray. He smiled at me and said, “no one will ever believe you,” and then pushed me into the water. I swam away and was able to survive, thanks to Bill Murray. As I reflect on that night, I can’t help but think that Bill Murray had been behind all of my misfortunes. Was it a lesson? Or was it just a random coincidence? I’ll probably never really know and maybe that is the most Bill Murray thing ever.