American Psycho (62 page)

Someone else: “Did you know that caveman got more fiber than we do?”

“Who’s handling the Fisher account?”

“Screw that. What about the Shepard thing? The Shepard account?”

“Is that David Monrowe? What a burnout.”

“Oh brother.”

“For Christ sakes.”

“… lean and mean …”

“What’s in it for me?”

“The Shepard
play
or the Shepard account?”

“Rich people with cheap stereos.”

“No, girls who
can
hold their liquor.”

“… total lightweight …”

“Need a light? Nice matches.”

“What’s in it for me?”

“yup yup yup yup yup yup …”

I think it’s me who says, “I have to return some videotapes.”

Someone has already taken out a Minolta cellular phone and called for a car, and then, when I’m not really listening, watching instead someone who looks remarkably like Marcus
Halberstam paying a check, someone asks, simply, not in relation to anything, “
Why
?” and though I’m very proud that I have cold blood and that I can keep my nerve and do what I’m supposed to do, I catch something, then realize it:
Why
? and automatically answering, out of the blue, for no reason, just opening my mouth, words coming out, summarizing for the idiots: “Well, though I know I should have done
that
instead of not doing it, I’m twenty-seven for Christ sakes and this is, uh, how life presents itself in a bar or in a club in New York, maybe
anywhere
, at the end of the century and how people, you know,
me
, behave, and this is what being
Pat
rick means to me, I guess, so, well, yup, uh …” and this is followed by a sigh, then a slight shrug and another sigh, and above one of the doors covered by red velvet drapes in Harry’s is a sign and on the sign in letters that match the drapes’ color are the words
THIS IS NOT AN EXIT
.

Bret Easton Ellis is the author of four other novels and a collection of stories, which have been translated into twenty-seven languages. He divides his time between Los Angeles and New York City.

www.eastonellis.com