by Patrick Bateman
This was post was written on February 14, 2016
When I was younger I craved Friday night. I couldn’t wait to leap out of my chair and leave my soulless job for a few days to get out and meet a new girl, the chase. Every week was filled with the same level of excitement. What would the weekend bring? What new gorgeous girl could I get?
The thrill in that moment when I am in the presence of a new female with an unfamiliar scent, be it of her hair or her perfume, filled me with a joy I can’t describe. I was willing to go to all lengths if something was possible. I would stay out all night. I would drink more than my bodyweight in alcohol. I would venue change until everything was closed and the only option was to take the party back to my place, or just go empty-handed with a phone number. The thrill of the chase at a young age will take any man to any lengths possible.
Slowly, as I got older the effort required outweighed the pleasure I received in chasing a new girl. Whether it was a one night stand or after several dates, it began to all feel the same. If the girl didn’t at least satisfy me to a neutral level then the effort would far outweigh any benefit. I began to assess nights out like a burned trader assessed the risk of a given trade. I had become risk averse. I didn’t even want to pull the trigger anymore.
The first time I recall the urge for the hunt dying was when I was out with a South African girl with a beautiful body and a fun personality. We went for drinks on a Thursday and then hit a club. Every guy and girl in that bar was either telling her (or telling me) how great her ass was. I wasn’t that enthused. I guess it’s ok, but why get that excited?
We went back to her place. Her wall was adorned with all kinds of pictures of her with celebrities. Mike Tyson? Tiger Woods? Jesus, was I about to get HIV? She removed her clothes down to a bra and panties after she came out of the bathroom. Her body was incredible, but I was tired. We moved to her room, passionately kissing. I was struggling to feel any urge to go further at this point. Thoughts were racing in my head. Where was I? What did I have to do at work tomorrow? How many venereal diseases does this girl have? I was able to get that last-minute surge and fight off the thoughts. At last, the excitement had come over me. It was a feeling I had felt so many times before, but it is a feeling so powerful that even under the weakest of urges a man can’t resist. I still had it in me. Yet it was only a momentary rush of joy.
The next thing I know I’m getting woken up to a phone call from my boss.
“Patrick, we need you to get in the office as soon as you can. I need you to look into some questions I am getting from the Investment Committee and we need to get answers to them by noon.”
My god, I didn’t know where I was. I smelled like a homeless man who climbed out of a sewer. I felt dirty and as though a tiny hammer was pounding my head. I quickly got out of the girl’s apartment. I needed a taxi to get home and shower. On the way in to work I began to question how I make life decisions.
If this was one of my first one night stands I would have had fun with that girl all night long, had zero sleep and would have no problem heading straight into work. I wouldn’t think twice about it. The novelty had worn off. I would have been better off eating a box of chocolates and falling asleep on my couch at 9pm. The pleasure would not be any better or worse off and I would not be worried if my dick was going to fall off before the end of the day.
I have taken large breaks from the chase since that time. Eventually the urge climbs back, and I make the effort to meet a girl for a few dates, but then the thrill is gone almost as quickly as it came back. Yet it always comes back. It always will. However with each girl I meet that has visions of marriage and eternal bliss dancing in her head, the breaks get longer and the urge gets smaller. If you know the price of a good and you no longer want to pay that price, you look for alternative ways to spend your money. For myself, chasing skirt has become no different. Drink dates that feel like interviews? No longer fun. Dates where you try to participate in an activity? You’re just distracting yourself. Tinder? Makes me want to vomit. Head to a coffee shop or a bar and throw out some lines to a woman? I’d rather eat cat litter.
Most people will say I haven’t met the right one. This also isn’t to say that once you reach a certain age you can forget about dating. It is much more complicated than any of that and this is only me speaking about my experience. Don’t take it to be anymore than that. However, if I could tell any young man one thing it would be one simple statement: enjoy your youth and the energy it brings, it will not last forever.