Surfing the 4th Dimension

"Hey, guys," you try, aiming your greeting at a young girl wearing red lipstick with her blonde hair in curls. A teenager with a sneer puts his arm around her and swigs from a bottle.
"Nice suit," he jeers. "Dick'ead!"
"Thanks," you mumble. "Are any of you gonna stay for the band-"
"Are you kiddin'? I wouldn't stay and watch Lennon and his kiddie friends if ya paid me," the kid said in a way that implied I would pay him.
"Really? I-"
"You're not from around here, are ya, mate?" one of the Teds says in his thick Liverpudlian accent. "You sound like you're from Buckingham Palace."
"No, I'm from Oxford, actually-"
"Push off, yeah, mate?"
You slope off, defeated, and annoyed that you picked the suit.

"No luck?" Peggy sighed. "Me neither."
Mike shrugged, "I guess this is a tough crowd. Shall we just get back to the time machine?"

You say...