Dining with Caligula
4/6/04 4:22 PM
Davis Ferguson was more uncomfortable at Le Cirque than I ever was at Denny's.
"I thought you told me this place didn't have a dress code," Davis said, looking remarkably ridiculous in the jacket he was forced to borrow from the management when he arrived without one.
Anticipating this, I had over-tipped the coat check girl to hide all but the mustard and rust colored plaid one that sat opposite me encasing Davis Ferguson. A jacket that instantly turns its wearer into a used car salesman.
"We all have some things we need to keep hidden," he said, his mouth full of Chilean Sea Bass wrapped in potatoes in a red wine glaze with shallots. "I think we both know what I am talking about."
"Your face is too fat for you to ever come off as sly," I was tempted to tell him.
"I need someone to make a higher bid to the Trust for those shares, someone who might want to sign an exclusive deal for a fixed price for the Silica mined after a transfer of the shares to a third party, at a profit, of course."
"That someone you are referring to is me, am I correct?"
He nodded as he removed a bone from his mouth with his thumb and pinky.
"I'll think about it," I said, and then asked the waiter to get him a finger bowl.
Virtually yours,
Patrick Bateman
Davis Ferguson was more uncomfortable at Le Cirque than I ever was at Denny's.
"I thought you told me this place didn't have a dress code," Davis said, looking remarkably ridiculous in the jacket he was forced to borrow from the management when he arrived without one.
Anticipating this, I had over-tipped the coat check girl to hide all but the mustard and rust colored plaid one that sat opposite me encasing Davis Ferguson. A jacket that instantly turns its wearer into a used car salesman.
"We all have some things we need to keep hidden," he said, his mouth full of Chilean Sea Bass wrapped in potatoes in a red wine glaze with shallots. "I think we both know what I am talking about."
"Your face is too fat for you to ever come off as sly," I was tempted to tell him.
"I need someone to make a higher bid to the Trust for those shares, someone who might want to sign an exclusive deal for a fixed price for the Silica mined after a transfer of the shares to a third party, at a profit, of course."
"That someone you are referring to is me, am I correct?"
He nodded as he removed a bone from his mouth with his thumb and pinky.
"I'll think about it," I said, and then asked the waiter to get him a finger bowl.
Virtually yours,
Patrick Bateman