I recently met Elvis. OK, it was an Elvis impersonator who was doing a gig in my place of employment. He came into the cafeteria to get a cup of coffee before his show, and it just so happened that I was on break. Cosmic.

I shook his hand and told him that he was doing a good job being Elvis and all. He said that he grew up not far from where the real Elvis was from. I think he said Minneapolis or something, he was mumbling. And come to find out, this Elvis is a licensed massage therapist and would soon be a real estate agent.

I told him that he would probably do well selling houses. Who wouldn't want to buy a nice, affordable house from 'The King'? Not to mention getting a massage from 'The King'.

Later, after his show, I asked him if he got a lot of chicks, being Elvis.
"Oh, yeah! But I don't like just any type of woman. You know what I mean?" he answered.

I said that I did, but I didn't. I was still trying to deal with the fact that I was talking to Elvis! That voice... and the costume...

Later, I helped him load some of his equipment into his Ford pick-up and wondered why he wasn't driving a big-ass Cadillac. As I was walking away, I turned and asked him one more question.
"Elvis, you ever see Big Foot?" I said, being just a tad on the sarcastic side.
"Nope. But I'm lookin' for him." he said, with that voice, just as serious as he could be.

With that, he put his red suit into the truck, climbed in, and drove off into the sunset.

Thank you. Thank you very much.

Michael McGan - 15th October 2003