#31 AFTER THE PATRICK BATEMAN WEEKEND: THE MARY BROGAN MUSEUM OF ART AND SCIENCE IN TALLAHASSEE
#31 AFTER THE PATRICK BATEMAN WEEKEND: THE MARY BROGAN MUSEUM OF ART AND SCIENCE IN TALLAHASSEE
I went to the museum with my friend and then obsessively thought about PB the whole time and tried (pathetically) to garner attention
If you want to read the previous three posts, check them out: what attracted me to him (the checklist), our first date (with an unpleasant surprise), and waiting in a vegan cafe (a sketch of some people at the table with me).
I emailed a bunch of notes to myself about Patrick Bateman in August after things were over. I’d originally wanted to use them for my defunct Blogspot but I never got around to re-ordering the material and boy has it been a jumble to do now!
This neurotic mess below was 24-year-old me.
When I left Patrick on the 28th because he had to go into the film school to work on “pre-dub,” something to do with sound on his film, I went to lunch with another friend who lives in Tally, a creative writing major at FSU whose blunt style, humour, and wit make me laugh mercilessly.
That morning PB made his barely-cooked eggs – none for me, which didn’t bother me too much since I knew he was in a hurry – and he rushed out the door, after allowing me to do an inventory of his apartment to make sure I’d left nothing behind. I walked him to his car after he’d helped me pack my car and we kissed goodbye.
I asked sort of pointedly if I’d see him again. I still wasn’t so sure even though he’d told me to keep the parking pass to his place which didn’t expire until the following January. He said something that indicated a “Yes, we’d see each other again,” but it wasn’t in definite language as I recall; it wasn’t a yes, of course or a “I think I’d like that” or even a “Let’s make that happen.” I’m not sure what it should be, but it left doubts floating in my mind. But I couldn’t quite place the feeling and couldn’t quite grasp why.
My friend and I visited the Mary Brogan Museum of Art and Science to see the Baroque art exhibit from Lombardy from the Pinacoteca di Brera. I took art history in undergrad, but I mostly studied modern art and the only thing I remembered about baroque was Caravaggio’s pieces, which I liked very much, but I didn’t remember as much as I’d hoped, so my friend and I browsed at the paintings trying to fill out this scavenger-hunt questionnaire thing, which asked you to find things like “three cherubs in a tub” in one of the paintings, but I’d sort of given up on being “educational” when I didn’t have to be. We had lots of fun in the logic puzzle room, however.
This friend had been one of the Heathers’ long-term boyfriends at one point (of “Heather hates you fame” thanks to Dorian). I’m not sure what went wrong with their relationship but once she’d brought him to a party and I thought he was funny and cute but I knew she brought him to said party because she was into him. And he pulled me aside that night and asked me out and I said I couldn't because she fancied him and they ended up going out but years later, I did make out with him and we did some touching but never had sex but also remained friends.
At one point I texted Patrick – I didn’t want to over-text, but I wanted to sort of say something:
Thursday, 28 July
2.48 pm: Elaine: At Brogan Museum and there’s a room full of logic puzzles. You’d love it!
Remember, he loves logic puzzles and our shared love (or like) of Lemmings. All I got was a “cool.” One hour later, no less. Clearly, he doesn’t care what I think…
3.43 pm: Patrick: Cool.
Fuck that attempt at conversation.
Take two…
3.44 pm: Elaine: How’d it go?
4.08 pm: Patrick: Taking a short break, but still going at it.
Okay, so he’s just busy. My anxious attachment style needed constant reassurance so I was actually a nightmare but also I didn’t seem to get the hint when people weren’t interested.
4.32 pm: Elaine: About to head back. Just realised I forgot the fruit. Hope you have a nice day.
I really love fruit. This is a major letdown. He doesn’t even like cherries, I think to myself. Damn it. I love cherries. Now I’ll have to buy more when I am home. Oh no! And the grapes. Will he even eat the grapes?
5:18 pm: Patrick: I’ll eat it and think of you.
Okay, so maybe this is a sweet line? I’ll take it as one. Now, I’ll attempt to flirt.
5.45 pm: Elaine: Good. I hope you think of me in other ways too.
5.47 pm: Patrick: Oooooh?
I’m not sure why he thought he needed 5 ‘o’s. What’s five supposed to signify? Now, I’m going to have to think about how to respond to a non-respond-able statement. But I was texting and driving again and on the phone alternating to my mother and my roommate. And my phone was dying. Shit, can’t respond. That’s okay. I didn’t know what to say anyway.
2023 me: Now I just voice text using Siri to help instead. Safer! I guess back then with T9 you could text and drive before they made it (very understandably) illegal.
6.48 pm: Elaine: Home. Phone died on way home.
7.01 pm: Patrick: I had a great time. Glad you made it home safe.
7.05 pm: Elaine: Me too. Thanks for being accommodating. Hope to see you again soon. How was pre dub?
Thank him. End with a question so he will text back. Should I write a “Thank You” card? Hmm, maybe that’s too 40-something. Curse you, analytical brain.
You see, I couldn’t just leave it alone and not text him for ‘x’ amount of days and leave it at that.
I had to text again:
7.20 pm: Elaine: What’s your email, please? I want to send you pics and I’d like you to do the same ;)
Play the “sexual content” card for attention. Sad move, but sometimes it works. Fuck! It’s not working. Still no response. It’s now 11 pm. Fuuuuuccccck! I’ll play Lemmings. It connects us in a weird way. Ugh! Even that doesn’t look as it should. Why doesn’t this look the way it did on his computer? New tactic and this seems like a legit reason to text:
11.17 pm: Elaine: Ugh! Lemmings looks ridiculously small and I can’t figure out how to get it full screen.
11.26 pm: Patrick: File, set options, zoom 2.
You’ve got to be fucking kidding me. He texts me back about a game. A game. But not about pictures? What’s wrong with this guy? Clearly, he does not like me.
11.39 pm: Elaine: Thanks. Hmm. Now it’s too large. What’re you up to?
Pathetic attempt at conversation five, or is it six? Or six-thousand? What’s wrong with me?
Friday, 29 July
1:24 am: Patrick: Bed.
No shit. When you text back 40 minutes later, then obviously you’re going to bed.
1.25 am: Elaine: Sleep well.
Pathetic. I text back within the minute. I should’ve just not said anything. Ahh! What’s wrong with me?
I tried calling the next day while I was in Target shopping for graduation presents for those of my friends getting Master’s degrees. I should’ve been graduating with them, but I’ve been a slacker lately. Probably more focused on dating than re-writing my thesis. Or maybe I’ll chock it up to stress and laziness? Brittany said I shouldn’t call without a reason. I remembered he didn’t like pointless calls. He’d told me that he hated when his friends called just as a “time waster.” So, I was in Target and I was doing something. I could tell him about the gifts I was buying or something. I was over-analysing everything and obsessing to the extreme.
Present me realises that “pointless time-wasting conversations” are actually ways to build connections with other humans so if he’s not into that then we weren’t compatible because I was a chatterbox.
9.29 pm: Patrick: Missed your call. How are you?
I just need to give up now.
10.00 pm: Elaine: Celebrating with friends. They graduated today. What have you been up to?
Okay, so at least I waited thirty minutes to respond, but that wasn’t by choice. I genuinely didn’t hear the phone since I was having dinner with Brittany and friends celebrating Brittany and friend’s graduation. Technicalities.
I believe the “other friends” included Stephanie (who lived in the apartment on the end of our girls’ house – see this post on my firefighter neighbour for a mention of Steph) and Kristy (who now has a PhD – see this post about the air traffic controller for more mentions of Kristy).
10.37 pm: Patrick: Went golfing with my friend. Relaxing now. Might go out.
PB keeps golf clubs in the back of his SUV.
10.43 pm: Elaine: Yeah, I might go out too. Just left restaurant and left lights on and car’s dead.
Oops. I’m not smart sometimes.
Some people find my occasional ditziness “endearing.” I’m still not sure which cards to play with PB since my usual cards do not work. Also, I keep forgetting to turn the damn lights off in new car. Must add jumper cables to trunk as I have some left over from old car. It was a pain for the neighbours (i.e. Steph and her husband) to have to bail me out of the Belk parking lot with their jumper cables. Props to self for waiting almost ten minutes to respond. Spent car time reflecting on how crazy PB’s lack of response and inability to read him makes me. Wonder if I should abandon dating altogether. Why am I being so suddenly neurotic? As long as it doesn’t show, I’ll be fine.
Oh it showed, past Elaine. It showed.
Why did I keep going for his attention? I was an idiot!
In the bonus (is it “bonus” or a chore? Reach out and tell me – heh) material here, you can read other text messages between these times but we had a short semi-flirty exchange at the beginning of August after I’d been to see him. I mean semi-flirty because he didn’t seem to understand flirting or cues or anything like that was he oblivious? Was he not into me? Either way, it sure doesn’t matter now.
Tuesday, 2 August 2011
1.41 am: Elaine: What was that downloady thingy you use called?
9.04 am: Patrick: What do you want to download?
12.11 pm: Elaine: Music or watch a film or that player.
12.41 pm: Elaine: Did you watch that YouTube vid? I wonder if I got your email address wrong since I never heard from you.
Attention ploys. In hindsight, why? Also, besides when I was younger in the early 2000s and used Napster, which was this cool new thing that allowed me to listen to such hits as Weird Al parodies and this one parody of “Hit Me Baby One More Time” called “Make My Bobbies One More Size” which I found hilarious at the age of twelve when I had zero tits (oh those days of no tits), then I’ve never ever ever had any interest in illegally downloading music or movies.
1.52 pm: Patrick: I got them. They’re great, but I’m having trouble opening them. It’s called bit tornado, and the site is called thepiratebay.org. Be careful, though; scan every download for viruses before you open it.
1:54 pm: Elaine: You can’t open the zip file at all?
2.26 pm: Elaine: So mysterious or, most likely, busy. You couldn’t open the second email or the first? And what was great? The video?
3.26 pm: Patrick: The pics. The video was ok. I’m actually taking care of non film school stuff right now.
Is Pirate Bay a thing still? Not the reaction to the pics I was hoping for. I’m an idiot. A zip file? Really? Were there 54 cringey nudes? Maybe he was referring to the generic pictures I sent him of our time together (maybe a zip of that makes more sense).
“Ouch! I’m pissing him off…Better do damage control.” I wrote to myself when saving all of these messages back then and adding my own commentary. SMH. Past me was so pathetic and desperate. No wonder First Kiss said what he did.
3.27 pm: Elaine: Sorry to bother you. I just resent the pics. Have a good day.
Delete his number and give up now. Cringe x 1,000.
4.41 pm: Patrick: Cool. Do you remember what day I mailed the tickets to my actors?
4.42 pm: Elaine: Tuesday.
Am I his PA now?
4.44 pm: Patrick: One of my actors said he hasn’t gotten the tickets yet.
5.20 pm: Elaine: Maybe it was Wednesday, but either way shouldn’t take more than 3 days.
The US Postal Service, delivering since 2011. Three days! Is it any better now? I’ve heard it is worse.
Wednesday, 3 August 2011
1:01 am: Patrick: NICE pics!
Better reaction. Not as great as I’d hoped.
1:17 am: Elaine: Ha. Thanks. What’s up?
So, I am uber desperate and then I act casual? Is this casual?
1:18 am: Patrick: In bed, getting ready to go to sleep.
Maybe he was getting off to the thought of me. I hoped so.
1.21 am: Elaine: I’m at house party. I feel vain with pics. Hope you like them.
Past me wrote: I’m pretty sure I was very drunk at said house party. I don’t remember but yes you are a vain dickhead, past Elaine.
1.26 am: Patrick: They gave me a rockin hard-on.
Better.
1:28 am: Elaine: Glad to hear it. I can’t wait to fuck you again.
1:29 am: Patrick: Likewise. €==D
Past me wrote: I think this symbol is stupid and ridiculous and shouldn’t be sent by someone who is only a few months shy of 30. Also, maybe I’m naïve, but no one had ever sent me this symbol before. I assumed it was supposed to look like a penis, but, again, I thought it was very stupid and silly and inarticulate. Emoticons are okay, but genitalia symbols, c’mon, you’ve got to be kidding me.
Ha! No idea why past me was so prudish about that. Now I love when Michael sends me the eggplant emoji. My father, however, still has no idea what it means. Poor Daddy! I’d like to keep it that way.
1.31 am: Elaine: So when can you come? Get schedule yet? We’re playing circle of death. And that’s the first time someone’s texted me that symbol. Ha.
Ha! I was not amused.
7.53 pm: Elaine: Just got off to thought of you ;)
I wrote back then: So, I’m not sure if it was exactly to the thought of him or him combined with RHSG, and maybe combined also with another friend I regularly slept with. But it sounded good enough. Who gets off at 8 pm anyway? That’s lame in and of itself, isn’t it? You’re supposed to wait until you’re drunk at 1 am or something or 10 pm at the earliest.
8.11 pm: Patrick: Don’t get me aroused—I’m in the library.
Ha! Yes! I want to continue…
8.13 pm: Elaine: Ha. Why are you in the library? I can’t wait to get you aroused when you’re here :P
8.21 pm: Patrick: Nice. Just printing stuff.
Spoiler: he was not aroused when he visited me…
Next up: when he came to stay with me at my house in Georgia and how it ended.
Don’t forget to check out the other thirty posts I’ve written, including the one on why I’m writing this newsletter/blog in the first place.
Have you ever obsessed over someone’s noncommittal text messages and/or tried to flirt with them oh so desperately and pathetically like me?