Patrick Bateman…is alive and well, in Birmingham.

For those of you who haven’t seen (or read) American Psycho, a little synopsis is provided. Those of you who have, you may skip past and start at the quote I’ve provided.

Synopsis: Set in Manhattan and beginning on April Fools' Day 1987, American Psycho spans roughly two years in the life of wealthy young investment banker Patrick Bateman. Bateman, 26 years old when the story begins, narrates his everyday activities, from his daily life among the upper-class elite of New York to his forays into murder by nightfall.

Patrick Bateman: “I live in the American Gardens Building on W. 81st Street on the 11th floor. My name is Patrick Bateman. I'm 27 years old. I believe in taking care of myself and a balanced diet and rigorous exercise routine. In the morning if my face is a little puffy I'll put on an ice pack while doing stomach crunches. I can do 1000 now. After I remove the ice pack I use a deep pore cleanser lotion. In the shower I use a water activated gel cleanser, then a honey almond body scrub, and on the face an exfoliating gel scrub. Then I apply an herb-mint facial mask which I leave on for 10 minutes while I prepare the rest of my routine. I always use an after shave lotion with little or no alcohol, because alcohol dries your face out and makes you look older. Then moisturizer, then an anti-aging eye balm followed by a final moisturizing protective lotion.”

BACKGROUND: My friend, we’ll call her Vespa, met a strapping (or what she thought) young man at the local Thursday night hangout. I would love to call this Yuppie by his REAL name because anyone that acts like this deserves to be called out. However, because the fear for my life, I’ll call him Patrick Bateman or Yuppie. Mr. Bateman claimed to be a lawyer, but in thinking about it, I wonder how that can be. He graduated from Auburn in 2005, which would presently put him JUST getting out of law school and without time to take the bar. Anyways please keep in mind this story comes from Vespa, and I might be leaving out a few things and the conversation isn’t verbatim. However, the text messages I am reporting are cold hard truth and evidence of a true Patrick Bateman in the making.

So Vespa starts her night at Open Door Café (ODC for the locals), and meets the Yuppie. Apparently there was good enough, normal conversation (and many drinks) to where she felt comfortable enough to give out the digits and take a much needed ride to her car. During the course of the 15 min drive, he asks a couple of important questions.

1) Are you seeing anyone?
2) Would you like a sip of what I have in this brown bag?
3) Would you like to feel my abs?

Responses/conversation (Vespa’s thoughts in parentheses):
1) V: Well sort of, I’ve been on a few dates with a guy that I’m interested in.
Y: What does he do?
V: He’s a neurosurgeon. (yes that’s right…a brain surgeon)
In which afterwards, he proceeds to call her a “gold-digger” for dating a doctor.

2) (Did you really just pull a brown bag of whiskey out from under your driver’s seat?)
V: Um, No thanks

3) V: (OMG why is he pulling his shirt up) No Thanks
Y: I mean I have the best abs you’ve ever seen, don’t I? (what the hell…)

Once Vespa is dropped off and begins the next day, she receives the following texts from the Yuppie. Keep in mind there have been NO talks of a date.

1. So, you need to be ready by 7:30 tomorrow evening b/c we’re eating at Surin at 8:00. I’ll pick you up around 7:40 J
2. Great! Ill take the no response as a “YES” since you didn’t dispute it, See ya tomorrow.
3. Hey obviously you are giving me the cold shoulder and so I will respect that and not call you anymore. However, I really enjoyed hanging out with you and your friends last night and I’m sorry it had to end this way. Thanks for giving me the opportunity to meet you and your friends and I wish all of u the best. I just hope the “dr” treats you right. If you ever need some to talk to you know my number.

Please let me interject on this NONSENSE of a text message. My thoughts and responses would have been: First of all, thanks Buddy, now you have wasted THREE messages in my package with that epilogue. Second, you act like I was your long lost sister who’s disappeared again. Third, you’re F-IN WEIRD. Ohhh and no you don’t stop there…

4. WOW! I don’t even know what to say. I thought I would at least get a response, but obviously you are too busy picking the pockets of your “dr”…..Have fun and be careful tonight. I promise I will NEVER try to contact you again.

Another interjection, ARE YOU KIDDING?? Vespa would only be so lucky for him to not contact her again. Lesson’s learned for him, not to go “fishing” for responses with sympathetic nothingness. Plus, you’ve now wasted a total of 8 text messages.

The seemingly stalker disappears. Only to rear his ugly head last night with this lovely, meaningful text (keep in mind she didn’t even talk to him): “H! Ur funny! Ur luky I even spoke to u. The blonde hair girl u were with is the hottestgirl in opendoor. U should felll lucky to even hold her Louis bag.”

Ok—there isn’t much more to say about this lovely specimen of a man, except beware.

Plus, I think because I fear for all women’s safety…his name is Matt.