A Little More Conversation

“So how come you’re spending Christmas at the Wyndham?” said Bill, the chatty driver of the shuttle bus.
“It’s an accident,” I told him, while Grumpy spoke to a woman in India on his cell phone. “Mix up with the flight. We’re meant to be going to Memphis. I’m looking for Elvis.”
“You a fan?” he said, brightening up even more. “It’s a great place. You’ll love it, if you ever get there. I’ve met him, you know, twice.”
Amazing. I may not be able to get to spend Christmas with Elvis, but here was someone who had met him. Twice.
“Both times were when he was appearing in Vegas,” Bill continued. “He was a really nice man.”
As we left the shuttle bus, there was the proof. A curled up photo he carried with him in his inside pocket.