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Subject: (no subject)

From: Madeline Whittaker

Date: Thu, Jul 10 at 11:45 AM

To: Emily Roberts

How were parent-teacher conferences? Awesome as ever?

As for me (shocker) so this is going to sound . . . well, however it sounds, but: I'm feeling a strange lack of effort on Elliot's part in the past few weeks. I'm the only one who tries to make plans these days, as opposed to what he does, which is just ask “what I'm up to,” which is infuriating (what am I up to? what are you up to?). Basically, I sense an intangible demotion from girlfriend to fuck buddy.

Except we aren't even really fucking right now.

The other night we kind of flopped into bed in a way that practically felt like we should have been putting on our PJs. We kind of touched each other but it was half-assed and soon we were both in our separate corners. We may as well have just taken a chainsaw and chopped the bed in half. And then I woke up in the AM and he was dead asleep in that way that only boys can sleep. So eventually I got up and walked to get us coffee. And it was fine . . . but also kind of not fine?

Then I don't hear from him for a day and a half and then I get this gem (I'm just going to copy and paste):

--------Forwarded Message-------

Subject: hiya!

From: Elliot Rowe

Date: Thu, Jul 10 at 11:03 AM

To: Madeline Whittaker

Hey hey,

Just over at Broome Street Cafe doing a little bill paying/housekeeping.

So I kind of have a work-related question for you: Is it crazy for someone who isn't a “name” (cough cough) to try to sell a cookbook? I was thinking there's something really cool about the concept of “Food That Chefs Cook for Other Chefs”—so like the stuff I whip up late-night when I'm trying to feed a bunch of starving Mexican line cooks using whatever's left over from the night, or when we're all at someone's apartment and it's 4 in the morning and there's just a bunch of random crap in the fridge. So, like, things that are easily executable and don't require any prep time. And since most restaurant kitchens have workers from like 15 different countries, the stuff we make for each other (stuff that never makes its way to an actual menu, mind you) usually incorporates a ton of different flavors.

Does that make any sense? I actually think it could be pretty awesome, but no idea how hard it is to get a cookbook going if you're not, like, Gwyneth Paltrow.

We still on for dinner tonight? Was thinking casual. Ramen?

 

Subject: Re: (no subject)

From: Emily Roberts

Date: Thu, Jul 10 at 2:30 PM

To: Madeline Whittaker

Parent-teacher night was fine. The parents are always more emotional than the kids. Speaking of immature adults, you need to reduce this down to its basic parts. A white whine reduction, if you will. Get it? Because you're white and whining and work with food? I slay me. ANYWAY.

You're spinning. Basically he's taking you for granted but I don't think that necessarily means he's disinterested.

If you want my opinion (obviously): it's not the no sex that would piss me off . . . it's the total lack of acknowledgment of the weird night, the kind of nonfight, followed by the favor-asking. It's just not great that his next contact is asking you about a work thing.

 

Subject: Re: (no subject)

From: Madeline Whittaker

Date: Thu, Jul 10 at 3:05 PM

To: Emily Roberts

Yeah, the cookbook thing is killing me. Because he's clearly giving it more thought than he's giving us. This is the longest email I've received from him in forever. I feel like a whale. You know how the Eskimos kill, like, a couple a year and then they use every single part? I am his entertainment, I got us that hotel, I give him stuff to read, I have sex with him (usually), and now—oh goodie—maybe he can use me to help his career.

When I got this, the first thing I thought was: I guess we're not using each other for sex anymore and he's moved on to a different part of the whale.

I can also feel the dam breaking . . . It takes so little for me to switch the topic of conversation to Elliot or to complain about him, and not just with you. With coworkers.

I am going to write him back on the cookbook front, pretending that he's not asking for MY help but advice in general. Because, taken at face value, that's what this email is. Fucking general.

 

 

 

Subject: Re: hiya!