Until It's Time For You To Go

Passing Notes

18th August 1970

"Elvis! Elvis! Elvis!" I can hear them screaming in the lobby.

I place down one of the last forks and the room is set for the 8.15 show tonight, people are already here early, but that is to be expected of an Elvis show.

Jesus Christ.

I rub my temples. This is going to be a long night.

I head back into the server's area and fix myself a glass of water.

"You alright?" A voice asks behind me making me spin around.

It was Rachel, I gulp my water down. "I'm fine, I just really am tired of his fans, my god." I sigh as I place the glass in the washing up pile, earning me the evil eye off the pot washers.

"They're pretty crazy, huh?" She smiles wryly, she only took this job so she could maybe meet the man, the myth, the legend that is Elvis Presley. I, on the other hand, did not care for Elvis one bit and I took this job because I had to. I'm living with my twin sister in my tiny two bedroom apartment with her newborn baby after her fiancé walked out on her for another woman; my original job, singing, didn't cut it and this one actually paid, and a lot.

"Crazy? You could say that..." I sigh again and leave the kitchen bracing myself for the wall of noise that would be this room in about half an hours time.

I've only been working at the hotel a month but Elvis had been here for the last week for his usual Vegas shows and I've managed to be placed serving the main floor right at the front of the stage. I'm good at my job and I know what I'm doing. I worked at a hotel before and I did quite well there before I decided to peruse my passion. Rachel was jealous to say the least, but so far all I have done is stand at the side of the stage with my back to it while the women screamed in my direction to the man dancing around behind me. I can't deny he is talented and when he gets up on stage he really captivates that audience and since I'm not allowed to serve them during the show it's interesting to watch the reactions he gets to different songs.

I walk down to the edge of the stage where I check everything is in it's place before making my way up to the head server by the door and telling him that we're all ready for the audience to come in.

They begin filing in and finding their seats talking quietly amongst themselves. I plaster a smile on my face as I help people to their tables and make sure they're alright before I begin taking orders. It is 6 now, so they have about an hour and a half to eat their food before they order more drinks before the show starts. Once everyone's orders are in I begin the long walks back and froth from table to kitchen and repeat the process when taking the empty plates back. I then go and take drink orders before returning with those. It is a long process considering I'm serving around 100 people, each server has a section of about 100 people that they have to serve. So to say the job is demanding is an understatement. I don't mind too much though, I enjoy being busy. I'm busier now than I ever was before I quit singing.

The house lights drop and I take my place at the side of the stage near my lot of customers. Within seconds the wall of noise hits me as Elvis comes bounding on stage behind me. I don't look round, I'm more awed at the women who 10 minuets ago were sipping their champagnes quietly and now had no inhibitions or recollection of who they were.

Elvis launches into his usual performance, something I have become very familiar with. I zone out and don't really listen, I mentally start making a list of shopping I need to get tomorrow before work.

Milk, eggs, baby formula, diapers, cheese, pasta...

I am jolted roughly out of my list by women barging past me to get to the stage throwing me sideways onto my ass.