Ken Jones is a creative writing student from Wallasey. He has been writing stories since the 60s, and has returned to education to improve his craft.
I’m back. It was quite a trip to Vegas. I was doing really well, hustling a living in the bright light city. It was a tough market to crack, so I was pleased that my street Elvis impersonation created quite a stir. I didn’t try to replicate the gorgeous, hunky, young Elvis, I modelled myself on the older, burger guzzling, drug ravaged version. Imagine my body with a jet-black wig and a rhinestone encrusted costume.
I worked with Dolly Parton, not the real one, but a tribute act from Nebraska. What a voice. She did the front of house hustle while I held the bible. Walking the strip was like being in a real-life MTV video. Elton John and Neil Diamond worked the corner alongside the human Eiffel Tower statue covered in gold paint. It never moved, but it made good money. We had to get indoors to survive the competition.
I was quite the star attraction in the hotel lobby when I conducted wedding ceremonies. Everything was fine until the police got involved. They didn’t approve. Apparently, you need a work permit, a Green Card, a minister’s licence, and permission from the hotel management to make two people happy. I did a lot of things wrong, but some good did come out of this sorry mess. 52 happy couples joined in wedded bliss. That isn’t a bad thing, although the authorities are still trying to trace all of them over the legality of the service.
I assisted the police as much as possible. It was a godsend that I used a hand-held card machine that sent a traceable email receipt to credit card users, but the 21 cash customers proved more difficult to track down.
Another positive was the fan mail – I say fan mail, it was an e-mail from Hank Fingelstein. He thanked me for being a charlatan, overjoyed that his father’s marriage to a gold-digging hooker was invalid and that his inheritance was still ring-fenced. The other e-mails weren’t so friendly. I got called some terrible names. Terrible.
I’m now banned from the United States, on the FBI most unwanted list. I was deported, treated worse than a terrorist by Homeland Security. The strip search was particularly uncomfortable; I can still feel that latex glove poking around my buttocks. They even confiscated my wig and rhinestone jumpsuit, but they couldn’t take my most valuable asset – my voice.
Ken Jones is a creative writing student from Wallasey. Three of his books are available on Amazon; Comeback, Gap Year and Carry a Torch.