Thursday 7 November 2013

Lunch with Chuck and Cam


What do you do when you get a call that you are going to wine and dine with the future king of England? It was an un-seasonally warm British sunny afternoon in July. I was wandering the grocery store for some lunch when I got an unexpected call from my husband. Very rarely does he call me in the middle of the afternoon from work, so I thought I better answer. Before I could say hello he asked, “What are you doing next week? Fancy having lunch with Charles and Camilla?” It was at that moment that I yelped and almost had to call for clean up on aile 4, grown woman has just peed her pants!

A couple days later I received the classiest and fanciest letter I have ever seen formally inviting little old Yankee me and my marine husband to join The Prince of Wales and Duchess of Cornwall at their stately country home, High Grove, for a formal tour of the gardens followed with lunch and refreshments with the Prince and Duchess. I could not believe I was holding an invitation to rub elbows with royalty! I had only lived in England for two years and I had already clawed my way to the top of the top of all social ladders. I was to wine and dine with a Prince and Duchess, and fingers crossed, run into Will and Kate where I would form a life long unbreakable friendship.

First things first I needed to find the perfect impressionable dress that screamed “New posh BFF”. I went on a mad hunt at every upscale store Poole had to offer (not too surprising I didn’t have much choice). After running from old department store to even older department store I found the most posh brand Poole has, a British designed Ted Baker royal blue dress. It would have to do and it was, after all, their signature blue.

The morning arrived and I can’t remember being more excited! Maybe it is just because I am looking back, but I could quite possibly have been more excited for this Thursday in the middle of July than the morning of my wedding. When we arrived at their country manor we were escorted around the many gardens by one of Charles’s right hand men. He took us through a typical English garden, through the exotic Moroccan garden, and through a beautiful orchard, which supplies the ingredients for the official royal chutneys and jams. We were told of Charles true passion of gardening and which places in the garden where his favorite to stop and ponder after a hard days work of princely duties and meetings with the Queen.

The time came to meet and greet with Prince Charlie. He came over to me and it was love at first sight. I was totally enthralled with every British word that came out of his royal mouth. It was infatuating listening to him draw his a’s out almost like he was making fun of his own countries silly accent.  And when he turned to me and reached for my hand we locked eyes and that was the end. That is when he fell head over heals for an American girl with big brown eyes and a charming southern twang. He couldn’t get enough of me and me of him. He laughed at my jokes, as he tightly help my hand in his and joking with Andy about re colonizing America turning and winking at my smitten face. Charles and I dominated the conversation flirting with each other as if it were my first high school crush. When his PA came to drag him away he held my shoulder, gave me a grin, and said, “It was a pleasure meeting you”. I just about melted. And to make it even better the lady next to me said in an overly jealous tone, “Well, didn’t he take a liking to you?” What can I say? He has a soft spot for an all American girl.

As we waited to speak with Camilla I was dreaming up all the fun times we would soon be having with the royal family. Fantasies of cricket on the lawn at Buckingham palace, sipping Pimms at the last night of the proms, walking arm and arm with Kate helping pick out her wedding china at Harrods, all came to a crashing halt when the Duchess ever so delicately put out her tiny hand out to me and I grabbed it with my huge American man hand giving my best howdy do grip and just about ripping her noble hand right off her little arm. I could tell by her puckered lips that I may not have made the best first impression. At that moment I knew I probably didn’t meet the “new best friend” criteria and I would probably never be able to mingle with this crowd and their wimpy handshakes. After all, they were all just a bit too posh for this American brawd.  

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