Breakfast with Elvis

Elvis had arrived on a motorcycle at the White House Diner and ordered a breakfast of eggs over light with slightly burnt bacon and biscuits.  Our White House waitress, dressed in a pink smock covered in Elvis buttons, almost went into a trance as she recounted that morning back in the 60’s when she’d taken his breakfast order.  Noting all the Elvis buttons, I’d simply asked if she were a fan. Duh!  I’d let the genie out of the bottle.  Now in her 70’s and faithful to the booth the King had sat in, she resembled a bobble head doll.  She had survived his death and his kiss.  In lieu of a tip, she’d asked Elvis to kiss her and he had obliged.  Her head suddenly stopped its’ nervous dance; she closed her eyes and summoned that magical moment.

“He said, ‘Yes, M’am.’ Stood up, and honey, those where the sweetest, softest lips there ever where.” She exhaled slowly, her head resumed the bobble and she asked us for our order.

 Whew!!  All I could come up with was bacon – slightly burnt.