“If the real Elvis was alive today, that would be his chariot right there.”
-Jeremy Speck, pointing at a monster truck going through the Mr. Pride Car Wash

“What kind of wash does Mr. Presley want?”

Michael Watkins is motioning Elvis to pull his Cadillac to the back of the bright blue and white Mr. Pride building on Union where Memphis’ Most Detailed Car Wash can commence.

Inside, manager Pat Garrett is finishing a phone conversation.

“I love you too. Well, I gotta go, we’ve got Elvis here and the newspaper.”

Garrett dials another number and hands Elvis the phone.

“Elvis, could you sing a few notes to Layla? She’s in our home office and she’s not allowed to get out.”

Elvis nods and drawls, “You know honey, since I got you on the phone, I can’t help wondering . . .” He pauses, puts his shoulders back, then croons, “Are you lonesome tonight?”

The impromptu concert continues as the rich voice reverberates through the cement block waiting room where a crowd is growing.

Employee Bennett Hart shouts, “The King is back, baby.”

Elvis flashes a smile, teeth gleaming like his Cadillac emerging from the wash.

“Can you do anything for my whitewalls?” he asks.