I imagine that the life of an Elvis impersonator has its downside. I suppose that being required to say, "Thank you very much," every single time someone ever did anything for you might get old. Flash mobs would be a constant nightmare. Your coworkers at Burger King all think they are so funny. The rash on your chest from the fake gold chains is somewhat embarrassing. If someone feeds you one more fried banana and peanut butter sandwich, you're going to lose it. Kids have no idea who you're supposed to be. Sometimes, late at night when the bright lights of the big city have faded into the distance and you are alone with your thoughts, you realize that you've already gone as far as you can in your career.
On the positive side, no one asks anymore why you still live in your mom's basement.