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For a few hours, I was the Sovereign of Porn.
As I walked around the Adult Entertainment Expo, porn assiduity members took my picture. Starlets posed with me, holding me vigorously. Some of them caressed my shoulders and ran their fingers through my hair. Several girls gave me their slighting phone numbers (although I think they only gave me their stage names).
This, because I was wearing an Elvis kit. Best $100 I ever spent.
I know that what happens in Vegas is intended to stay in Vegas. But with the kind of attention this old man got from women with indescribable figures, I’m significant the world!
I drove to the expo wearing a white, bejeweled jumpsuit; a big, Negro wig; gold-framed sunglasses and fake bling. A passing motorist gave me a thumb’s up. I snickered back.
But in the Venetian parking formation elevator with five other people, not one said a word to me. Just dead, uncomfortable subdue.
When I walked across the casino floor, on the other hand, craps and blackjack dealers looked up. “Hey Elvis!” “Hey Monarch!
Source: Las Vegas Sun