Todd and I are eating lunch at a Quiznos in North Hollywood. Sitting across from us at two different tables are an unrealistically hot bitch who we decide must be a porno actress and an old lady who looks like she died two weeks ago.
Todd says, “If you had to fuck the old ugly one, but then you get to fuck the hot one, would you do it?”
“What’s the rest of the scenario?”
“There is no rest. That’s it.”
“What about disease, and pregnancy, and subsequent chances to fuck the hot bitch?”
“No. You don’t get any of that.”
“See? So there’s more to the situation here. You have to lay it out completely.”
“Okay, here’s your scenario. You’re lying in bed at one A.M. and the old bitch materializes in your bed completely naked and starts sucking your cock.”
“Okay.”
“Now, while she sucks, she says, ‘If you fuck me, not just let me suck your cock, but actually stick your dick in me, then right after you blow your load, the hot porno bitch will show up and fuck you, too.’ And you get no diseases, there’re no pregnancies, no one knows about it, and both bitches vaporize as soon as you blow your load.”
“And I’ll be magically ready to fuck immediately after I’ve just fucked the old bitch?”
“Yeah.”
I think it over. I look at the old bitch, at her gunt, at her wrinkly, jerky lips as she eats a cup of Quiznos clam chowder. I realize that given Todd’s theoretical situation I think I would fuck her even if the hot bitch wasn’t a follow-up.
I say, “In your theoretical situation I’d fuck the old bitch even if there was no hot bitch.”
“Dude, that is fucking vile.”
“You would, too.”
“What? No fucking way.”
“Yeah, you would. If no one will know and there’s no risk involved, what do you care if she’s old. She’s still got a pussy, right?”
He realizes I’m right. “Yeah, I guess I would fuck her. Would you fuck any bitch on this planet given that same situation?”
My gut reaction is to say yes, but logically that can’t be true. I hedge my bet.
I say, “Maybe not all of them. In the age range of seventeen or so to dead, I’d probably fuck like ninety-eight percent.”
A decent-looking mom walks in with two little kids. She’s kind of fat.
Todd indicates her with a head nod and says, “Is she ninety-eight percent?”
“Yeah.”
There’s an old, insane-looking homeless bitch on the street corner.
Todd points to her and says, “Dude, is she ninety-eight percent?”
“Uhhh…yeah, sure.”
“Holy shit. You’d fuck her?”
“Yeah, if she vaporizes right after I do it, what do I care?”
“If she’s ninety-eight percent, then what’s a two-percenter look like?”
“I don’t know. I’ll let you know when I see one.”
We finish our sandwiches and on the entire ride back to work we don’t pass a single two-percenter. I wonder if the fact that I live in Los Angeles has anything to do with it or if I should just change my range to ninety-nine percent. It’s probably L.A. I decide to leave it at ninety-eight percent.