The Bill Murray Bourbon

June 28, 2010

He comes home drinking a flask. Ann and Little Ann are on the couch. Ann says:

-What have you been up to?

-Guess who gave me this bourbon.

-I don’t care. Z?

-Way better than Z.



-I don’t care, it’s three o’clock in the morning. Where have you been?

-My friend Bill. Bill Murray. HEARD OF HIM?

-I’m going to bed. Tell me about in the morning.

-So me and Z are this dude’s place. Not sure if I’d call it a loft but it was loft-y. Super-high ceilings. And the dude had drums everywhere. Like, EVERYWHERE. Bongos, a few drum sets, fucking maracas, a gong. All sorts of drums. He must’ve been a drummer. And there so many chicks there, Ann. I recognized one of them from the Hudson. She always drinks alone at the bar, maybe she’s a hooker.


-What was I saying? Right. Bill Murray. So Z and get there around two, two thirty, and it’s super-crowded. I have to piss so I get in line for the bathroom, and it’s a long line, and everyone in line is drunk and kinda pissed off, and this old lady behind me, well, she wasn’t old old, but older, 60-something, this old lady says, I thought you young people pissed fast. She said to no one in particular. And then Z turns around and says, They’re not pissing, they’re being careful with their drugs. And she’s like, I see. So I’m in pain here because you kids need to get high in private. You know. Years ago, we always did it out in the open. Nobody cared. I don’t understand why everyone has to go in hiding nowadays. The kids today are so-anti-social. We all know what’s going on when three ladies hang out in the shitter for twenty minutes. They’re not comparing their turds. It’s not like: “Oh Tiffany, your pellets are so elegant. Just like you.” She said something like that, I don’t remember, but this lady was hilarious. She double-dared Z to piss in the sink. Oh! So she keeps talking about coke, right, and she says she hasn’t done drugs since 1990. She’s like, So I’m on a dig in Turkey and — oh, right, she said she teaches archeology or classics, or maybe both, at CUNY, I think. So she says she’s on a dig in Turkey, back in 1990, and all these students are driving her insane.

-Just tell me tomorrow.

-Real quick. She’s on this dig and the students won’t do any heavy lifting. All they want to do is sit around and drink. But she’s there to dig. At night they’re allowed get hammered, but they have to work during the day. But the kids never want to work. She said our generation is so fucked up because we never had to fight in a war. And you know what, she’s absolutely right. She is absolutely right about that.

-Good God, what are you talking about? I’m going to bed.

-Wait. It gets good. So the kids won’t dig and the professor is pissed. She says that it was easily the least productive dig she’s ever been on. But the silver lining was that she’d invited her friend Bill. Maybe you’ve heard of him. He’s an actor. Bill Murray. That’s what she said, for real. So ridiculous: he’s an actor, maybe you’ve heard of him. At night on these digs she and Bill would party with the students. Isn’t that awesome?


-Can you imagine? You go on this dig to get a few credits or whatever and you’re digging shit, you’re digging shit, you’re digging shit, and it sucks, it’s hot, and then at night your teacher’s like, alright, kids, it’s time to get fucked up with Bill Murray. That would be crazy. So that one time, the time she was talking about, Bill Murray brought coke. And she said, Jesus, Bill, how’d you get that coke through customs? Bill Murray doesn’t say anything. He just points to his butt. He brought coke to Turkey in his asshole. She said, The man has timing. He’s bastard and a liar and a lousy fuck, but he has timing. Z’s losing it, I’m losing it, the professor lights a cigarette. No one else is smoking, mind you, but no one bothers her about it. The line’s not getting any shorter. She said one time in Turkey Bill Murray made out with a girl, a student. Outdoors. Like, on the ground, in the dirt, and all the kids were watching them. Isn’t that insane? Imagine that, you’re a chick, and you sign up for a dig, and you get there, and you’re digging, you’re digging, and then at night fucking Bill Murray starts hitting on you and the next thing you know you’re making out with him on the ground while your professor watches. Isn’t that insane?

-I guess so. I’m going to bed, for real. Come on, Little Ann.

-Wait. I didn’t even get to the best part, the part about Bill Murray giving me the bourbon. So we’re in line, and all of a sudden the front door opens and this dude bursts in carrying two huge garbage bags. Guess who it is. Guess.


-It’s Bill Murray, and he’s in sweat pants, like, sweatshirt-material sweatpants. He reaches in one of the garbage bags and pulls out a handle of Svedka. Fucking Svedka! He reaches in again and pulls out another bottle of Svekda. And then another one. He brought ten bottles of Svedka to this party, and he started walking around the loft filling people’s cups with Svedka. He’s saying, You can’t spell Bushwick loft party without S-V-E-D-K-A. And the professor’s like, Oh, there you are Bill. Get over here. He walks over and kisses her hard in front of all of us. Later on, Z and I decided that is was heaven must be like. You die and the next thing you know you’re in line to piss at a party and Bill Murray comes in with ten handles of Svedka in garbage bags and he Frenches the eccentric classics professor you were bullshitting with. Man oh man, what a night. So he gets in line with us and we start chatting about which girls at the party Bill wants to fuck. He only liked the short ones. So he could toss ‘em around. The professor plays along with it but we could tell she was getting jealous. I showed him a picture of you and he said he’d give you a poke. He said he’d even poke you sober.

-Great, thanks.

-So he’s coming over tomorrow. I’ll take Little Ann to the park for a hour and you will pleasure Bill Murray. Do whatever he wants.

-As long as he doesn’t have toilet paper on his dick it’ll be a step up from what I’m used to.

-Look at you, making jokes and shit. He’s not actually coming over later. But the professor did say that Z and I are invited to her book launch next weekend.

-What’s her book?

-Statues something something. Whatever. Open bar, right?

-Sounds fun. Goodnight.

-So. The bourbon. Bill sees that I don’t have drink and he’s like, Have some vodka. He starts pouring me a cup of Svedka. But I say that I don’t like vodka. So he pulls a flask of bourbon from his pocket and he says, No one goes thirsty around me. I won’t abide it. And he gives it to me. THIS WAS HIS PERSONAL BOURBON. The bourbon he was going to drink himself. He gave it to me. Crazy. So I’m not gonna finish it. I drank most of it at the party.

-I can see that.

-But I’m never going to finish it. Never. You can’t drink it either. It’ll be our special little thing, the bottle of Bill Murray bourbon we keep in the freezer. If we ever have a party we’ll have to hide it. I’m thinking years from now we’ll drink it together and remember the night I partied with Bill Murray and the professor.

-Good God, you’re an idiot sometimes.

-Why am I an idiot? Why is little Ann still awake? Where are his parents?


-Hey, Little Ann. If I catch you drinking this Bill Murray bourbon I’m going to kick the shit out of you.

NEXT: Typical Wildly Ambitious Ann, Putting People On The Moon

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