Someday, your Prince won’t come

By Tiber

I’ve been through this before, ladies, but obviously it bears repeating. No, you do not want to marry a Prince, so quit holding out for one.

I know many of you still think that becoming a Princess means you can sit around all day wearing a sparkly tiara, while your favorite singer serenades you, a servant does your nails for free and another one feeds you tiny chocolates in the shape of peasants who now have to bow down to you and hand over all of their high tax money.

Well, that last part may actually be true. I don’t know.

The reality is that no matter how awful you feel or how desperately you want to see your friends, instead you’ll be forced repeatedly to get up at an ungodly hour to unveil, open, christen, reveal, applaud, and delight in every plaque, megastore, ship, statue, amateur folk-dancing group and new waste-management facility in the country.

Until you die.

Plus, you’ve heard that royals never carry money? The reason for this is that because they’re forced to shake so many hands, soon their fingers stop working entirely and they’re not even able to pick up a coin.

So, girls, go for the nice male who’s a prince of a guy without being a Prince of the Realm.

You may have to watch more football but at least you won’t have to wave at it for three hours.

And afterwards, your time will be your own without your having to go and be the Patron of the Flounder Museum.


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