The last time I gave money to a one-legged man at Fred Meyer, I kind of got my ass kicked. It went much better today.
I can’t remember when I’ve been there in the middle of a weekday, but clearly this is when to shop. The place was near deserted! There were even parking spaces right out front. It was practically relaxing.
My list was fairly short and I was at the checkout in no time. As my purchases were being rung up, a man in a scooter rolled by and made some kind of wisecrack to the cashier. “Well, at least I can walk and chew gum at the same time!” she shot back. Ouch. That seemed like a harsh thing to say to a man with only one leg, but he laughed and pretended to toss her a piece of gum. “Prove it!”
I thought I heard her call him “Elvis” but I was trying not to be nosy (that’s a laugh). There was a little issue with one of the items I was buying so I got tied up for a few minutes at the check stand. Once I had my stuff, I started pushing my cart toward the door.
“Have you had your song for today? It’s your lucky day!” It was Elvis. He pulled his scooter up next to my cart. “Want to know how I lost my leg?” he asked. “Yeah, how?” “It ran off!” He was on a roll. “What do you say to a one-legged hitchhiker?” He paused. “Hop in!”
Then he started to sing. “You’re so young and beautiful and I love you so…” He pulled out his wallet and gave me a card identifying him as Les Small and advertising his services as an Elvis impersonator. A friend joined him, a painfully thin elderly woman I had noticed in the store earlier. “I’m her chauffeur,” he explained. Everyone who walked by got a comment or a smart remark.
A woman in a wheelchair rolled up; she looked in rough shape and had one leg wrapped in a thick discolored bandage. She seemed to know Les and said hi. “What are you doing?” she asked. “I’m gathering women!” he bellowed, taking all of us in with a sweep of his arm. “Step right up to the love machine!”
Eventually things settled down a bit and I told Les that it was his lucky day, too. “I’m listening,” he said. I started explaining about honoring my mom, and paying forward a gift. “That’s real neat!” he said. “So, I want to pass some of it on to you.” I handed him the hundred.
He glanced at the folded bill. “Oh, I love that!” he said. “That’s neat.”
“It’s real,” I whispered. “NO!” he shouted. “WHY? Why would you do this? I’m going to pass out!” His friend had stepped over by the pharmacy for a minute. He told me quietly that he owed Dorie $50 and was so happy he would be able to pay it back. “I’m going to give her half!” he said with a big smile. “Come shake this lady’s hand!” he called out to her. I had my camera out and started to snap their picture. “Get close!” he ordered Dorie.
Les really wanted to show me something he had in his truck: an article from Star Magazine about his Elvis act. On the way, he told me that he used to be a tree trimmer. In 1994 there was an accident in which he fell 60 feet. His left leg was broken and his right leg crushed beyond repair.
He parked the scooter next to his truck and swung himself up into the driver’s seat. Rifling through some papers, he found what he was looking for. An article describing his Elvis-O-Gram service showed a much younger Les and his guitar, serenading a woman on one knee. He insisted I keep one of the two copies he had.
We chatted for a while more and he told me to call him if I ever need anything. “I hire this truck out. If you ever need to move, just remember: ‘Elvis has a truck!’ I’ll run right over. I’ll even put my leg on for ya! And I’ll get there eventually! Ha!”
I asked what he was going to do about the store’s scooter, which was sitting between two parking spaces. He was thinking this over as a young woman walked by. She was smartly dressed in a long wool coat and high heels. Her hair was piled high on her head and her lips were freshly painted and bright red.
“Hey!” called Les. The woman looked up. “You want to return that scooter to the store?” “Do I want to?” she asked. “Will you?” he persisted. “Okay,” she said. “What do I do?”
“Just climb on board and push that lever,” Les instructed. “That’s the only way to make it go. It’ll be fun!” The woman climbed onto the scooter and backed it up, almost running into someone. “Watch out, everyone!” she warned. “This is fun,” she agreed, as she headed for the entrance.
As we said goodbye, Les reached out to give me a big hug. “You know what you are?” he asked. “What?” I said. Elvis answered.
You’re so young and beautiful, you’re everything I love
Your angel smile, your gentle touch
Are all I’m dreaming of
Oh take this heart I offer you
And never set me free
Then you’ll be forever young
And beautiful to me
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