"Does anyone have any idea that Jeanette and Evelyn are meeting us at Zeus Bar, where we do not have a reservation? Has this passed through anyone's mind?" I ask, doubting it.
"But Zeus Bar is closed. and besides that we canceled a reservation we didn't even have there," McDermott says, trying to stay calm.
"But I think I told Jeanette and Evelyn to meet us there," I say, bringing my fingers up to my mouth, horrified by this possibility.
After a pause McDermott asks, "Do you want to get into trouble? Are you asking for it or something?"
"My call waiting," I say. "Oh my god. What time is it? My call waiting."
"It's gotta be one of the girls," Van Patten says gleefully.
"Hold on," I croak.
"Good luck," I hear Van Patten say before I click off.
"Hello?" I ask meekly. "You have reached the - "
"It's me," Evelyn shouts, the noise in the background almost drowning her out.
"Oh hi," I say casually. "What's going on?"
"Patrick, what are you doing.at home?"
"Where are you?" I ask good-naturedly.
"I-am-at-Kaktus," she hisses.
"What are you doing there?" I ask.
"You said you'd meet me here, that-is-what," she says. "I confirmed your reservations."
"Oh god, I'm sorry," I say. "I forgot to tell you."
"Forgot-to-tell-me-what?"
"To tell you that we aren't" - I gulp - "going there." I close my eyes.
"Who-in-the-hell-is-Jeanette?" she hisses calmly.
"Well, aren't you guys having fun?" I ask, ignoring her question.
"No-we-are-not."
"Why not?" I ask. "We'll be there... soon."
"Because this whole thing feels, gee, I don't know... inappropriate?" she screams.
"Listen, I'll call you right back." I'm about to pretend to take the number down.
"You won't be able to," Evelyn says, her voice tense and lowered.
"Why not? The phone strike's over," I joke, sort of.
"Because-Jeanette-is-behind-me-and-wants-to-use-it," Evelyn says.
I pause for a very long time.
"Pat-rick?"
"Evelyn. Let it slide. I'm leaving right now. We'll all be there shortly. I promise."
"Oh my god - "
I click back to the other line.
"Guys, guys, someone f**ked up. I f**ked up. You f**ked up. I don't know," I say in a total panic.
"What's wrong?" one of them asks.
"Jeanette and Evelyn are at Kaktus," I say.
"Oh boy." Van Patter cracks up.
"You know, guys, it's not beyond my capacity to drive a lead pipe repeatedly into a girl's vagina," I tell Van Patter and McDermott, then add, after a silence I mistake for shock, finally on their parts an acute perception of my cruelty, "but compassionately."
"We all know about your lead pipe, Bateman," McDermott says. "Stop bragging."
"Is he like trying to tell us he has a big dick?" Van Patter asks Craig.
"Gee, I'm not sure," McDermott says. "Is that what you're trying to tell us, Bateman?"
I pause before answering. "It's... well, no, not exactly." My call waiting buzzes.
"Fine, I'm officially jealous," McDermott wisecracks. "Now where? Christ, what time is it?"
"It doesn't really matter. My mind has already gone numb."
I'm so hungry now that I'm eating oat bran cereal out of a box.
My call waiting buzzes again.
"Maybe we can get some drugs."
"Call Hamlin."
"Jesus, you can't walk into a bathroom in this city without coming out with a gram, so don't worry."
"Anyone hear about Bell South's cellular deal?"
"Spuds McKenzie is on The Patty Winters Show tomorrow.
Chapter Nineteen
Girl
On a Wednesday night another girl, who I meet at M.K. and I plan to torture and film. This one remains nameless to me and she sits on the couch in the living room of my apartment. A bottle of champagne, Cristal, half empty, sits on the glass table. I punch in tunes, numbers that light up the Wurlitzer. She finally asks, "What's that... smell in here?" and I answer, under my breath, "A dead... rat," and then I'm opening the windows, the sliding glass door that leads out to the terrace, even though it's a chilly night, mid-autumn, and she's dressed scantily, but she has another glass of the Cristal and it seems to warm her enough so that she is able to ask me what I do for a living. I tell her that I went to Harvard then started working on Wall Street, at Pierce & Pierce, after I graduated from business school there, and when she asks, either confused or jokingly, "What's that?" I swallow and with my back to her, straightening the new Onica, find the strength to force out, "A... shoe store." I did a line of cocaine I found in my medicine cabinet when we first came back to my place, and the Cristal takes the edge off it, but only slightly: The Patty Winters Show this morning was about a machine that lets people talk to the dead. This girl is wearing a wool barathea jacket and skirt, a silk georgette blouse, agate and ivory earrings by Stephen Dweck, a silk jacquard torsolette vest, all from... where? Charivari, I'm guessing.
