Thank you Harry, but your ordinary person wants his ordinary hair cut
EAT your hearts out, royal watchers! There’s only 2640 of them and I’ve got one.
You could have knocked me down with one of those little paper Union Jacks when the invitation to the royal wedding arrived. Beautifully printed and only one spelling mistake. (‘‘Weeding’’, in case you’re interested). The venue is St George’s Chapel at Windsor Castle on May 19.
Touchingly, the bridegroom has included a personal note.
‘‘Hi Jim,
You’ll have seen in the paper that we’re inviting 2640 ordinary people to the big show. That’s all the budget will stand but it’s more than enough.
The heavies had to be put on the list first, of course. Faithful retainers, local bigwigs and the usual procession of hangerson.
The Keeper of the Queen’s Corsets, for instance. Dreadful man.
But we still had a few vacancies and Gran suggested whistling up a few guests from the Commonwealth.
We drew the line at asking an Australian, of course. Just one of them would be a guarantee of the whole thing turning into a drunken shambles. God knows what they’d tamper with. There’s a Canadian invited but then I’ve always found them to be a pretty polite bunch.
In New Zealand’s case Jacinda’s name came up, of course, but then there was some hooha about the effect of such a long journey on her. She’ll be ‘‘heavy with child’’, the royal quack said. Pompous ass. And Meghan thought so, too, but she doesn’t need him just yet, I’m lucky to report.
Then we decided to find a real nobody who wasn’t pregnant and your name popped up.
You had been mentioned to me by a chap I met at the King’s Arms in Shepherd’s Market. The working girls there remembered you well and passed on their regards. Hope that’s all they passed on to you! Nudge. Nudge.
This chap knew you in the old days in Dunedin. Tom someone. He’s a dentist. Just like most of the Kiwis in London, apart from the barmaids. This dentist told me he makes more from extracting than Oceana Gold. Didn’t shout, though. Probably been too long in London and lost his native habits.
We’ve had to pull out the homeless and rough sleepers who litter the Windsor Castle area but we’ve invited a couple just for PR purposes, so at least you’ll have someone of your own sort to have a yarn to.
Best of all, I’ve managed to get you a room at Windsor Castle!
It’s a pub not far from Birmingham, so train from Birmingham New Street station to Windsor and Eton Central then a 20minute walk to the do. Whole thing would take only about three hours and you change trains at Oxford and Slough. Only 58 quid offpeak.
Sorry can’t offer you a room at the actual castle but there’s B and Bs all over the place. Meghan wasn’t keen on us spending the wedding night in one but you’d be OK.
I’m told when you’ve been in London you’ve spent most of your time stooging around Soho and never got near the pubs around Windsor Castle, so try the Carpenters Arms in Market St. I hear they’ve got Emerson’s on tap and the place is awash with Highlanders fans.
And for God’s sake don’t bring a present. We’re crammed with gimcracks the olds have collected over the years.
There’s even a bust of someone called Robert Muldoon done in greenstone. If you have to, just make it a cheque. Or a voucher from Harrods. Always handy.
Hope you can make it. You’d probably see more if you stayed home and watched television, but I’ve scrounged you an invite to the aftermatch. Not as a guest of course, but I’ve put you down as a wine waiter. You’ll just have to pour the odd drink and have a few yourself. We’re putting on a case of Felton Road Bannockburn Pinot Noir 2016 so you’ll be fine.
I know it’s short notice and a long way to come but Air New Zealand has stumped up with an economy return fare (drinks extra) and say the publicity for them will be worth every penny. Hope your passport’s up to date, as your Internal Affairs crowd charge $360 for organising a lastminute one.
Cheers, Harry.
My RSVP has been sent politely declining the invitation and explaining that I’ve been lucky enough to pin down a haircut appointment with Selwyn Grave in Dunedin on the very day of the wedding so, naturally, will have to decline the kind wedding invitation.
I hinted, though, that once Harry is married to an American who will have no knowledge whatsoever of rugby, he might be looking for somewhere to send his tickets to the All Blacks game against Ireland on November 17.
I mentioned that I happen to be completely free of haircut appointments on that particular day.