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Jo Stevens

The human race is divided into two species. The first species : life and soul of the party, always up for a laugh, for the next party, for the next opportunity to take centre stage. And then you have Us Lot, the other half of the human race. Our destiny : to wander through the backwaters of life. We know we’re down here to make up the numbers. We don’t have a lot of fancy ideas about ourselves. If we do go to a party you'll find us up to our elbows in the kitchen sink, passing round the savoury dips, worrying if there'll be enough pizza to go round. And it's not even our party!

I know this sounds ungrateful - after all, a lot of people went to a lot of trouble to fix up a surprise party for me - but I hated every minute. Well...almost.

I’ve always been pretty good at picking up on atmospheres - thought I’d never be caught out. I hadn't a clue, walked straight into it. Total darkness, sudden blaze of light, explosions of laughter, whistling, cheering. I stood there, a rabbit caught in the headlights. Someone jammed a paper hat on my head, a banner slapped across my chest, an oversized goblet of some plonk or other pressed into my hand. I knocked it back, and prayed for instant oblivion. And as for that coven of so -called friends over in the corner, giggling their brainless heads off....

Somebody spun me round in circles, knocking off the paper hat. I was passed round like a parcel, by folk I hadn’t seen in years, and some I swear I’ve never set eyes on before. And that’s when I first set eyes on Elvis Presley!

Voices receded. Laughing faces blurred. I could see only him. Elvis smiled, that slow familiar heart-stopping smile. He swayed towards me, his smouldering eyes locked into mine. And then, as the music started, he led me on to the tiny dance floor. He began his serenade with Wooden Heart and I gazed up at him right through to the last line of Love Me Tender. The music stopped. I closed my eyes. And then Elvis kissed me.

The room erupted with applause. I opened my eyes and I looked at Elvis. He was ripping off his lustrous black hair and pulling off the sideburns. And then, before the applause had even died away, Elvis was gone and I was left there alone on the dance floor.

I really laid into my friends for setting up the whole ghastly ‘surprise’ in the first place. They weren’t in the least bit sorry. Told me I needed ‘taking out of myself,’ that I’d become too predictable, too sensible for my own good.

Well maybe I have. But I still hated that surprise party. And yet. And yet there were those few moments - now I’m putting this down entirely to the alcohol I hasten to add - for those few moments I was a young girl again. A young girl dancing with Elvis Presley.