Congratulations on Upsetting Everyone in the Room!

You’ll be at one of the many orgies you attend. They’re basically the only way to interact with people socially in L.A. and get any sort of genuine human contact out of it, which is kind of sad and kind of awesome considering how many attractive people come to L.A. to try and “make it.” You and an aspiring writer will both be balls deep in a waitress who shot a few commercials back in 2006 and hasn’t really had a lot of success getting supporting work since when the question will pop into your head and be out before you even had a chance to register what you were saying.

“So, Beatles or Stones?” you’ll say, wiping sweat from your brow.

The writer, whose name you never bothered to learn, will pull back a little.

“Beatles, of course, man,” he’ll say, giving the waitress a moment to breathe before he thrusts his penis back into her face. She’ll grab a hold of him before he does so and force him to hold for a second.

“Oh, yeah. Totally. The Stones had a lot going on, but you really can’t compare what they accomplished to what the Beatles managed to do with some of the worst luck of any band in history,” she’ll pontificate before accepting the writer’s penis back into her mouth.

Someone in a pile a short distance away will voice up.

“Fuck yeah, Beatles!” he’ll shout amidst the grunts and moans of your fellow orgy-goers. It’ll be hard to tell if the cries of assent are simply those of ecstasy or agreement, but most of the mutters of agreement will clearly be genuine acknowledgements that yes, the Beatles were indeed better than the Stones.

“I...kinda prefer the Stones,” you’ll say, taking a break from thrusting away at the waitress. She’ll pull her body forward, freeing herself from you and the writer. Everyone in the room will disengage for a moment, wrapped up in your seemingly innocuous entry into the discussion.

“I think it’s best if you leave,” the waitress will say, handing you your pants. Murmurs of agreement will dominate the room this time, the lack of moans and shrieks driving home just how badly you misstepped here.

As the waitress’ hands guide you out of the room, pressing articles of clothing into your arms along the way, you’ll think of all the mistakes you made in life that made you like the Stones more the Beatles, but in the end you’ll only be able to go back to an episode, long long ago, when your uncle made you touch your junk while he watched while Gimme Shelter was playing. That’s what you’ll blame for this whole horrible night as you drive home, teeth bared and rage brewing.

Congratulations on Upsetting Everyone in the Room!