"Love it," I said sitting on a pouf.
"Or this?" he said flashing a 100% linen number.
"That's great, too."
"You're not helping."
To be fair both shirts would have looked dynamite with his suit. But Mr. Wonderful needed definite answers like: Yes that works; No that doesn't or; What?! You won't be caught dead in that! The reason for Mr. Wonderful's clothing anxiety was the Prince was coming to town. Which proved that even grown men will act like giddy teenaged girls when meeting a Prince.
Prince Philippe of Belgium was in Los Angeles for a business trip to promote trade between L.A. and the land of great beer and chocolate. Being a lover of great beer and chocolate, Mr. Wonderful had been invited to meet the Prince to discuss ways of bringing more great beer and chocolate to Southern California.
On this trip the Prince brought some of his closest business pals, oh, like 400 of them. But none of them knew great beer and chocolate like Mr. Wonderful. Once I did a blind tasting on my spouse and in the beer department he could tell a Leffe Dubbel from a Leffe Tripel in 1.6 seconds. And you should see him with chocolate. Give him a 1 lb. box of Leonidas chocolates and within a minute he will tell you the color, texture and flavor of every chocolate in that box. Of course you won't have any chocolates left in the box but that's another matter. I don't quibble with the methods of gourmet tasters like Mr. Wonderful.
Prince Philippe was traveling solo in the Golden State having left his lovely wife, Princess Matilde, at their little castle in Brussels. I knew how she felt since Mr. Wonderful didn't bring me to the royal reception either. I heard she drowned her sorrows by plopping on the sofa with a pint of Trader Joe's chocolate coconut ice cream and watching every season of HBO's Game of Thrones in one sitting. Or maybe that was me.
I understood the royal couple; after all they were just like us: They were married, we were married. They were human, we were human. They had to borrow Harold's extra-tall ladder to hang a lamp. Or maybe that was me.
In order to prep my spouse for meeting the future king to the Belgian throne, I quizzed him on what he could say upon first greeting the Prince: And "Hey Dude, wanna ditch this fiesta and catch some gnarly waves at Zuma Beach?"--didn't suffice. Rather I encouraged Mr. Wonderful to be respectful, to talk about the products he sells and ask if the Prince would be interested in learning more.
"That's what you should say," I said ending my speech with a royal-worthy salute.
"What if I wore this one?" Mr. Wonderful said pulling out a silk shirt that matched his eye color perfectly.
"Yes!" I said. "The Prince will really notice you in that one!" Or maybe that was me.