I answer questions on allexperts.com and recently had a question about how to achieve a haircut inspired by a 1968 Elvis. I answered the question and suggested to the questioner not to be surprised if he was met with some incredulity as we don't often get requests for hairstyles from 40 years ago. It reminded me of a client I had several years ago.
I was working in a small, privately owned salon and I was often the last one to leave. One night, shortly before locking the doors, a man dressed all in black, boots and sunglasses, (it was nearly 9:00 p.m.) and dyed black hair, came in and asked if I had time for one more. Of course I did. I asked his name. He quietly responded as though he were concerned someone would hear, "Elvis". I looked up to see if he was smirking and think I just caught him nervously looking as though he might have to run out the back when herds of screaming girls came running in. He wasn't smirking so as I put his name on the appointment book, I said, "Ok, whatever you say, but you're the third one today!" He still wasn't smirking.
While I was cutting his hair in fine Elvis form, he handed me a business card and asked if I often worked alone at night. Now he was getting a bit creepy. Before I had the chance to respond and tell him about the Transformer in the back folding towels, he explained that in the near future, he would be traveling with his entourage and they would need a place they could go at night to avoid the crowds. (Darn those screaming legions of crying, clothes ripping, pantie throwing, sweaty scarf loving girls!) Ahhh, I see. "Well, I suppose your schedule is quite busy. If you let me know ahead of time, I can arrange to accommodate you after closing. That way, your entourage will all have a place to sit." He still wasn't smirking but he did seem appreciative that I would be willing to help him out. I'm pretty sure he was expecting me to ask for an autograph, but if the guy can't at least laugh at my jokes, there's only so much I'm willing to do.
I managed to finish his hair cut without laughing out loud at how ridiculous he looked. He combed through it, scrutinized it from every angle, shook his head, smoothed his hair again and after a solid 5 minutes thanked me for being as good at my job as he was at his. He gave me an invitation so a show he was doing on a Saturday afternoon and told me to feel free to bring a guest. He left, I swept up all three hairs that I actually cut. I wasn't able to go because I work on Saturday afternoons and try as I might, I couldn't give those tickets away. I never saw him (or his entourage) again.
Ladies and Gentlemen, Elvis has left the building.
addendum: Just this past summer, I happened to see Elvis again. In place of legions of screaming girls, I saw one woman dancing and heckling cars as they drove by. And in place of an entourage, he was singing Karaoke style in front of Bob Evans. hmmm...