got nothing to lose."
Hearing those words again
was the final spur. As Elvis' "Jailhouse Rock" played on her record player, Beverly brought the bottle to her
lips, closed her eyes and swallowed the contents in one gulp.
She had never had a drink go straight to her head with a mere sip, but before the liquid even reached her stomach,
she felt dizzy. Suddenly she felt herself spinning amidst colors and shapes as though caught inside a toy kaleidoscope tube.
Overwhelming panic prevented her from appreciating the strangely beautiful images. She had heard of drugs that do this sort
of thing to your brain.
Somewhere outside of the kaleidoscope
she could still hear the words to "Jailhouse Rock" and she latched onto the sound to try to clear the drug out of
her brain. Gradually, she could feel the floor beneath her feet, the colors and shapes faded away and she felt perfectly normal
Except for her eyes being unfocused. And
her ears being bombarded with music so loud she could feel it vibrating through her body. With great determination, she was
able to blink away the dim blur affecting her vision, but what she saw made her squeeze her eyes shut. Several times she opened
and closed her eyes until she was convinced the scene around her wasn't going to change back to her bedroom.
She seemed to be in a nightclub, but she had no idea how she got there.
More astonishing, however, was the sight of Elvis Presley, in person, performing the song she had been listening
to in her room just seconds before.
But it couldn't
be Elvis. He was in boot camp and his hair had been cut off. The man on stage had all his hair and was gyrating more suggestively
than the censors would ever allow. And he was wearing something no rock 'n' roller would be caught dead in. It was
all white from neck to ankles and decorated with rhinestones and fringe.
Beverly glanced around her and noticed other oddities. The customers were almost all women, and some were screaming
very unladylike phrases at Elvis, such as "Shake some of that this way!" and "Let's see some
buns!" There was also something not right about their clothes and hairdos.
she spotted the waiters—at least she guessed that's what they were since they were carrying trays loaded with drinks—but
these men were bare-chested, muscular and extraordinarily handsome, and a few of them had very, very long hair…and
A collective squeal from the audience drew her attention back to the stage in time to see Elvis strip
his rhinestoned outfit completely off his body with two hard yanks.