Patrick Bateman’s Morning Routine vs. Morning Routine of Average Serial Killer

American-psycho-patrick-bateman

1. I live in the American Gardens building on West 81st street.

I live in my mother’s basement.

2. My name is Patrick Bateman.

My name is Joe, but my mommy calls me her Little Jo Jo Boy. 

3. I’m 27 years old.

I’m 27 years old.

But, I’m prematurely balding and exclusively wear tattered Nikes, so people usually think I’m 41. My mom insists that it’s a compliment to be mistaken for an older man, but she’s always saying nice stuff to me. I think she’s pretty scared I’ll kill her. 

4. I believe in taking care of myself, and a balanced diet and a rigorous exercise routine.

When my mom’s home, she makes me breakfast:  chocolate chip Eggo waffles with a chocolate syrup smile drizzled on top. When she’s not home, I stir up a sensual elixir of stale fruit loops and questionable Sunny D that I keep next to my twin mattress. Other mornings, I steal cans of chili and snickers from a C grade bodega, while simultaneously purchasing a single slice of boar’s head Salsalito turkey on her credit card. She looks the other way when I buy meats. And when I murder people. I get it, she doesn’t want to be next.

Oh, and, I don’t really exercise, but when I bludgeon someone to death with a rusty pipe, I get pretty out of breath. 

5. In the morning, if my face is a little puffy, I’ll put on an ice pack while doing my stomach crunches. I can do a thousand now.

In the morning my face looks like a dead ogre’s. My mom says that I’m ruggedly handsome, and that my beard acne is adorable. Sure, mom. I feel so hideous, I sometimes sit on my sheet-less mattress, put a brown paper bag over my head,  remove my basketball shorts, and pleasure myself to the thought of homicidal infamy. I’ve reached masturbatory climax with a lunch bag on my face at least 5,000 times now. My mom’s never complained about the noise. In fact, she restocks my J.O. paper bags every week.

6. After I remove the ice pack, I use a deep pore cleanser lotion.

Upon ejaculation, I wipe up the mess with the crime section of our local newspaper, which by the way, not one of my murders has EVER been mentioned in. Whenever I get upset my mommy always says, “You’ll be in there one day Jo Jo Boy! I believe in you.”  Again, I think she’s just trying to stay alive. 

7. In the shower, I use a water activated gel cleanser.

Sometimes, for fun, I shower with corpses. My mom walked in on me once and just said “Oh goodness! Let me know if you two need anything!” 

8.Then a honey almond body scrub.

My mom does have a great honey almond body scrub that she lets me use.

9. And on the face, an exfoliating gel scrub.

Sometimes,  I’ll rub dollops of my victims’ blood, which I keep congealed in a chilled in a beach cooler next to my bed, all over my face.  My mommy says it’s sweet. For my birthday, last year, she bought me a brand new cooler to keep the blood in!

10. Then apply an herb mint facial mask, which I leave on for 10 minutes while I prepare the rest of my routine.

I wear the skins of my victims as masks, and leave them on for 10 minutes at a time. My mom says that she thinks it’s hilarious! She does cry when she says that; “from laughter,” she claims.

11. I always use an aftershave lotion with little or no alcohol, because alcohol dries your face out and makes you look older.

Sometimes I wear their skins, cover my face and body in their blood, and drink alcohol my mama buys for me. “Let me know if you need a refill, my Little Jo Jo Boy!” she says, while shaking, usually. 

12. Then moisturizer, then an anti-aging eye balm followed by a final moisturizing protective lotion.

My mother does also have a moisturizer, anti aging eye balm, and moisturizing protective lotion she lets me use. She even told me I could lend the creams to my “shower friends,” if I wanted to. 

13. There is an idea of a Patrick Bateman, some kind of abstraction, but there is no real me. Only an entity, something illusory.

There’s an idea of Jo Jo Boy. Since I’m a murderer, it’s a pretty sad idea. Unless you’re my mom. She loves me a lot and thinks I’m great!

14. And though I can hide my cold gaze, and you can shake my hand and feel flesh gripping yours and maybe you can even sense our lifestyles are probably comparable, I simply am not there.

And even though my literal killer instincts make me wanna take out my mommy, if I did, I’d have to move out of this basement, so I probably won’t do it.

 

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