WWJD? What would Jesus do? The answer is usually be kind and don’t freak. It’s a world wide* classic go to mental relaxant in tough situations. Though I fear in spite of my not-very-religious-belief that Jesus was in fact a pretty sweet dude (good beard, glossy hair, love of bacon etc) his life doesn’t seem to reach into the same modern day stress induced niche as my own. I just don’t envisage that he would have suffered from social anxiety or confidence issues.
I prefer to relate my agoraphobic storm clouds to a celebrity who takes on the whole being famous/in the public eye thing it in an entertainingly original way. Now I do realise I am not famous but I get the feeling that the pressure of notoriety would feel similar to agoraphobia; constantly feeling exposed and watched, fear of embarrassment and the inability to have authority over your own personal space. The difference is of course that no one on the street gives a shit if I make a fool of myself, thank god I have no paparazzi after my unstyled ass.
In my voyeurism of celeb culture I am frequently looking for inspiration for dealing with my every day social hang ups. Thus I have come up with the mantra “WWBMD”, what would Bill Murray do? How could I possibly go wrong by styling my decisions on a member of the Ghost Busters? Bill Murray has long been a personality crush for me in a sexy way but also in a fundamentals of existence kind of way. I think his teachings of; make people laugh, give unto random dudes in airports, drink booze, look disheveled but some how intentionally so and not giving a shit would enrich may life to no end. My attraction to people who seem to get through life being themselves, doing what they do without conforming to what is expected while showing minimal fear or panic borders on open mouthed amazement.
So with this in mind when I found myself of an evening having a few drinks in a bar on Upper Street in Islington London, try to understand my sheer elation at reading a simple piece of graffiti on the loo room door.
The Library Bar is a cute wee pub around the corner from the plush (sadly borrowed) apartment were I rested my weary head during a recent trip to the big LDN. I will admit that my attraction to the place was originally based on my affinity with the name, being that I am a Librarian by profession and retain (much to the misery of non librarians during conversations at parties – often drunkenly debating Dewey vs LC and whose clientele requires the most babying) many librarians within my friend circle.
The gin and tonic served to me on arrival was in a huge goblet style glass with fresh strawberries, a more welcome sight one hath never seen in the cold damp British winter eve.
The gin selection was good and the décor comfy. My friends and I (yes I had friends, not just marauding about pubs in London alone to view toilets funnily enough) found a comfy back bench and proceeded with the drinking and merriment. The ladies powder room was located at the back of the bar. The inside was painted pink like the inside of a vagina but a vagina that a bunch of drunks had graffiti’d inside.
There were two cubicles, one had a broken lock but because there was a spare and a certain level of drinking was involved this didn’t cause me too much anxiety.
So, what would Bill Murray have done? I’ll tell you what he wouldn’t have done, he wouldn’t have jumped up and sat on the window sill to take strange angled photos in a pub toilet while a bit pissed during an international holiday.
But then I except that I will never be as cool as Bill Murray. I also get a whole lot of emotional support from knowing that I don’t have to be because he is doing it for all of us… so we don’t have to.
*Of the countries containing people of faiths that believe in and have nice things to say about ol’ Jezzy Crezzy.