Back at our suite, Elvis said, “I’m hungry. Joe, order me a steak, but make sure you tell them well done. What do you want, Honey?” “Hell, E,” Joe said, “I always tell them well done.” “Well, tell them again,” Elvis shot back. “I’ll be goddamned if it doesn’t always come back half raw.” To Elvis, raw was slightly pink. Everyone specified “burnt” when ordering for him.
