On Sunday morning I decided to go for a walk in shopping area at Bally’s.

One of the stores proudly displayed a statue of Elvis. He was wearing the legendary chrome sunglasses of the fat-Elvis period. This was exactly the kind of junky Americana I had in mind.

Sensing a natural match, the shopkeeper led me directly to the glasses. Shady quality, high pimp value. Perfect.

As I was about to buy them, a fairground-style fortune telling machine caught my eye. Instead of a frightening Gypsy with evil eyes, this one sported a greasy-haired Elvis with shaking hips.

$0.50 and three bars of “Hound Dog” later, it spit out my fortune — “…Beware of spending money impulsively”. An obvious impossibility.

I broke the bad news to the shopkeeper gently: “I can’t deny Elvis”, I said. “He knows, he knows”, she replied.

Ah Vegas.