A Glimpse of Royalty

Okay, so it is shameful that it took me this long to come out of hiding and blog again. But when it's worth blogging, what can I say? It's worth blogging.

So, what- might you ask- is worth blogging over? Well, several of you have clamored for details, and at this point, I am duty bound, and frankly- driven by my own love of story telling- to give them to you.

It was a crisp, lovely evening in Las Vegas. I had on the the most uncomfortable shoes of the 3 evening trip- black satin sling backs with rhinestones and bows on each ankle. Every other evening of the trip my shoes had been much more forgiving, but not so on this night. My friends and I had dined at an amazing restaurant in the Bellagio Hotel, and while every bite (and sip) was worth it -truthfully- we were running late. We all knew that Cirque Du Soleil's shows do not accommodate late arrivals, and accordingly, our host scrambled to close out the check while we enjoyed our desserts in the most expeditious (and delicious) manner. The ladies in our group all made a mental note that we would have to wait for intermission at our show to freshen our make up and make the ladies' room run.

The wine from the dinner made my shoes a bit more bear-able for the evening as we booked it across the casino floor, headed for the hot show in Vegas- "O". We took our seats quickly, and were ever so impressed that they were probably 3-4 rows back from the stage. The show itself began- lots of laughs drawn from the white faced clown who opened (and continued to draw laughs) throughout the show. We felt the mist from the water as the divers made their daring plunges into the shallow pools, and the heat from the fire dancers as they literally "played with fire". It was so entertaining, amusing, and yet... nearly unbearable, because, literally, I NEEDED that intermission. My good friend leaned over beyond my husband and hers, mouthing to me that- Yes, she, too, was in the same position. I nudged Martin, and asked if there was an intermission in the program. Surprise! The program we were handed, was- in fact- NOT a program, but an advertisement. Bad news- halfway through the show, and no intermission in sight.

At this point, my friend Courtney and I decided it was worth filing out of our seats- at the very front of the show- to the very disruption of everyone- to make our run. I grabbed my evening bag, and hoping I wouldn't step on anyone's toes (in my cute shoes) as I filed out of center-middle-down-front, I made my way out of our row. Those of you who know me, know that I am clumsy by nature, so each step I took was accompanied by sincere concentration- I held on to the brass hand rail, focused on each step, and planted each black shoe firmly on each step in front of me to avoid further "entertainment" for the whole of the audience of the Bellagio. As I made my way up, Courtney followed me out. Near the top of the landing, I glanced to my left, and out of the corner of my eye, noticed a line of younger looking guys in the very last row of the lower section of the lower level. I was waiting for Courtney to catch up, and so, had a moment to notice the guy in the seat closest to me (for my husband- when I say "notice" I mean- "Make Note Of"- nothing beyond that) dark close shaven hair, in the white shirt, with black and red print on the front. For some reason, I glanced up the row- and noticed a guy- head thrown back, mouth open- laughing uproarously at the show. My eyes absorbed red, spiky hair, sharp nose, blue/navy plaid shirt. And then. THEN it dawned on me. I felt my eyes widen, and looked at Courtney- as she finally caught up- "I think that's Prince Harry!!!!" I whispered ecstatically. "Really?" she said. I think- but I might be wrong- that she *might* have been a bit skeptical. I can't say that I blame her, as I had been a freak all weekend. I knew Prince Harry *could* be in town, and while I do NOT stoop to paparazzi levels, I do happen to LOVE the Royal Family to an embarrassing level. (I will show you the Royal Wedding China when you're in town next). In fact, I might have (on one occasion) "pursued stealthily" someone who I thought could be him, and let's just say- I had kept my eyes open, and everyone in our little group knew I was on the lookout.

We headed to the ladies room, and the staff seemed, well, a little flustered to let us out. I noted- what's the deal, we're just going to the ladies room, not robbing the vault or anything.... as we were in the ladies' room, I conspired with Courtney and we agreed we would definitely check things out when we returned. Good plan, and GO!

No, not so much. Got back only to discover that the house lights were so low, we couldn't see a thing except lighted stairs. Darn it all. I couldn't even tell who's profile belonged to whom- we could barely find our row, much less see who was in the audience.

We made our way back to our seats, and I must confess, I was distracted for the rest of the show. I whispered my suspicions to my husband, and he actually, amazingly did seem to buy in. I mentioned that if it was REALLY him, he would be in the back, and ready to bolt when (or before) the lights came up. I can't tell you how I wished for eyes in the back of my head so I could watch the show AND scope it out. Towards the end of the show, and at the curtain call, I threw my cards on the table and turned around- to see if there was movement on the last row. I noted that a couple people- not all- of the last row were filing out. I was slightly disappointed. Maybe I was wrong. However, when the lights were up, and that row was empty, I felt a little more confident. As we filed past, the seats were empty, but for the clear plastic cups with lime slices (Martin noted that detail) to which everyone was required to transfer drinks. I motioned, and showed Martin where I had seen the blue laughing shirt. I think he maybe believed me- probably 65-70%.

After the evening at the Bellagio, we enjoyed the gardens and then headed for the taxi line. Courtney's husband said he heard mention of "Prince Harry" , but no confirmation. I joked that he was probably headed to the club that we were too old (and we are NOT old) and too fat- to be.

We made our way back to the Encore, and after a drink or two, found our way in a crowded casino/hotel hallway. There was a buzz in the air, and apparently, Steve Wynn was rumored to be out and about. Also, suddenly, the night club price spiked. We joked several times through out the night about checking out the night clubs in the hotel, but at a price of $120 for men, and $20 for women, we decided that was TOO steep, and to call it a night out of sheer fatigue.

Yesterday morning, I woke up to reports that Prince Harry did indeed attend the Cirque du Soleil show of "O" on the same night, in the same section as me- 103. Apparently he was in the very club that our cocktail server recommended we go to because of the DJ that was coming in that night. Apparently, he did, indeed have on a blue/navy plaid shirt that looks like one my husband has. Needless to say, I met this news with a giant yell and "I TOLD YOU SO!!!". My only regret is that I didn't yank out my camera to prove it all. But I could never betray the Prince that way (I don't think). His mother would NOT approve.

Nevertheless.... One royal down, several more to go....