Adam had smiled at Arthur with perfect white teeth, had pulled his chair back for him at the restaurant. He laughed politely at Arthur's jokes, shared an appropriate amount of information regarding his family (two younger sisters), his studies (med school, for crying out loud), his extracurricular activities (swim team and Black Student Union) and his musical tastes (Simon and Garfunkel and the Beatles).

Arthur eyed him askance ever since that. Not that there anything wrong or even exceptional about liking the Beatles, but – no, that was exactly it. Everybody liked the Beatles. Anyone who brought them up on a discussion of music was either, #1, an insane groupie, #2, afraid to discuss his real tastes for whatever reason or, #3, a hopelessly bland human being.

Arthur had given up on #2 already and was ready to despair of #1.