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What happens when you meet someone pretending to be Elvis… in a small-town restaurant? In this Season 5 Finale of 7 Minute Stories, Aaron shares a story about nachos, a tribute act, and an unexpected moment of connection. What started as a kitschy Elvis performance turns into something unforgettable—a moving reflection on art, risk, and the courage to chase your dream, even if only twelve people are watching.
*Join Aaron Monday’s at 8:30PM EST for 7MS Presents: Live and Unscripted: A live, audio-first show inspired by classic late-night radio — it features raw reflections, spontaneous storytelling, and unexpected conversations with guests and listeners. It also serves as the creative Storylab for the award-winning 7 Minute Stories, and offers a behind-the-scenes look at how stories are tested, shaped, and brought to life in real time. Subscribe to Aaron’s YouTube channel and tune in every Monday!
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*The team who've made 7 Minute Stories a top storytelling podcast:
Story created & performed by: Aaron Calafato
Senior Audio Engineer: Ken Wendt
Additional vocals: Cori Calafato
Art: Pete Whitehead
Original Theme Music: thomas j. duke
Additional Soundscape Design: Isaac Gehring
TRANSCRIPT
Aaron Calafato:
Hey everybody. Here we are. It's the end of Season Five.
But don’t worry—we’re not going anywhere. Every Thursday this summer, we’re bringing you The Best of Season Two.
And as promised, this Saturday we’re kicking off something brand new.
It’s the premiere of our new series: 7MS Presents: The Storytelling University.
Our first guest? Noraly Schoenmaker—also known as Itchy Boots, the viral YouTube sensation. She’s traveling around the world on a motorcycle, capturing stories along the way. And I cannot wait for you to hear that conversation. It was so much fun.
But for now—let’s close Season Five with one last story.
This one’s called: Elvis Has Left the Building.
Music filled the room. I looked up from my plate of barbecue nachos. “1, 2, 3 o’clock, 4 o’clock rock...” blared through the speakers. I looked across the restaurant. Jet black hair. Rhinestones. Jumpsuit. I could see the curl of black hair going over his forehead. He looked me in the eye. And I thought to myself—holy shit, that might actually be Elvis Presley.
Let me tell you what happened.
Ordering the barbecue nachos was probably a mistake. I panicked. Cori and I had gone to this little farm-style restaurant about fifteen minutes south of where we live. Decent food, not too far, and they were advertising an Elvis tribute that night. Don’t ask me why, but I thought—“This could be fun.” So we went.
Now we’re at the table, and the music is blaring. He’s already singing All Shook Up when we sit down. There are lights. He’s dancing. I saw him through a window in the back of the restaurant where he was performing. Cori looked at me and said, “Oh my God, this is for real.” And I said, “Yeah... it’s for real.”
I’m trying to look at the menu, but it’s hard to concentrate. The music is so loud, and he’s already performing. So I go rogue and say, “Just get me the barbecue nachos.” Cori says, “You sure?” I say, “Yep. Bring ’em out.”
They bring out this giant plate of nachos. But we couldn’t even have a conversation. We were completely fixated on this performer.
There were probably twelve people in the room. They were eating nachos and pretzel sticks, sipping Diet Coke. They weren’t reacting much—just kind of watching. Meanwhile, this guy was giving everything he had. He was sweating. He had the full jumpsuit on. He was doing all the classics, moving from table to table. You could tell—he’d done this before.
And I had this feeling come over me. Just for a moment, I thought—man, this is kind of sad. Maybe this guy dreamed of being in Nashville. Maybe he dreamed of touring. Maybe he wanted to be in a tribute band that pulled bigger crowds. And here he was—performing for a dozen people, clapping half-heartedly.
Then he sang My Way.
Now, if you know me, you know I love that song. It’s one of my favorites. And he sang it—the Elvis version—with everything he had. And something shifted.
He turned toward me during the chorus. “I did it... my... way...” And he locked eyes with me. And I nodded. That movie-style nod. The one that says, “I see you.”
And I thought—how did I go from feeling pity for this guy… to wanting to take a bullet for him?
It was his performance. But it was more than that. In that moment—he became Elvis. The charisma. The energy. The presence. He wasn’t pretending. He wasn’t impersonating. He was Elvis.
And I had to check myself. Who was I to judge this man?
What if this is his dream? To perform. To do what he loves. To get paid something to do it. Isn’t that what I do? Isn’t that what all of us artists want? To connect. To share. To live it.
This guy had the courage to show up. To give his all. And to risk looking like a joke in front of a small crowd. But he wasn’t a joke. He was doing what he was born to do.
I stood up. Cori asked, “What are you doing?” I said, “Do we have any cash?” She handed me a few bucks. I walked over and dropped every dollar into his tip jar. It felt like a moment of understanding. Two storytellers. Two artists. Two troubadours—just giving the world all we’ve got.
To be honest, I wasn’t crazy about the nachos. Left half the plate. Our ears were ringing. So we left.
On the way out, Cori asked, “How much do you think he made tonight?” I said, “I don’t know. Maybe two hundred bucks? Two-fifty?” She said, “It’s really something, isn’t it?” And I said, “Yeah. It really is.”
Because when he packs up his guitar, his lights, his PA system—and he walks out the back door into the night, it won’t matter if five people were there or fifty. They’ll know two things:
One: They saw Elvis that night.
Two: Something in that room had changed.
Because Elvis had left the building.
At the end of this story, I want you to hear him for yourself. This is real audio from Cori’s phone. You’ll hear him finish the song. You’ll hear me shouting, clapping, celebrating him.
Just like I’m celebrating each of you—every single listener who’s come with me through Season Five.
I love you guys. And I’ll talk to you soon.
