As of this writing, these are the facts: Saudi Princess Buniah al-Saud landed in an Orange County jail last week, facing charges of theft and felony battery. She allegedly beat her maid, pushed her down the stairs, and stole and sold items belonging to a former driver. The Orlando Sentinel reported that she came here to study English in an intensive program that "operates a school in three double-wide trailers on the University of Central Florida campus." Tales of Saudi employers mistreating domestic staff, the report said, are not uncommon.
This is baffling to us nobodies. If I had someone who'd take out the garbage and iron my dresses without expecting me to date them or care about their day, I'd buy them Ghiradelli chocolate, not throw them down stairs. Press accounts said al-Saud wanted to blend in; her classmates didn't know she was royalty.
Most smart girls begin wishing for a crown as soon as they know what the word "princess" means. I'm still waiting to be told that my real parents were the Monarchs of Rhinestonia and that the circumstances of my life have been a grievous error for which many will pay dearly. So how does a real Princess come to want to be a regular slob, allegedly to abuse staff, steal and go to school in a trailer?
Until more is revealed in this twisted tale, all we can do is speculate. But for now this is the only way I can make sense of it all. At least if I were the Princess (and kept a diary).
Monday: Home from New York. Plaza was SO tedious. Since when is Martha Stewart "too busy" to come make my coffee? Poodle oil massage should soothe nerves. Maybe I just need some girl talk. See if Oprah will host my slumber party.
Wednesday: Flew to Monaco for Stephanie b-day. BO-ring. Accidentally blab about slumber party, then have to invite her. Told her "no karaoke." Last time her rendition of "Crying" shattered Ming dynasty pottery; it was perfect salsa dish. Maybe give her I-zone camera, keep her busy.
Monday: Flew to Bali for weekend. Took off Hope Diamond to go swimming and forgot it on beach. Oh! Some cabana boy got a fat tip.
Tuesday: Forgot to mention, while in NY, asked man, "Where nearest bathroom?" and he pee in the street. Was told this is common for NY, but don't believe it. Perhaps my English needs improvement.
Wednesday: Call Fergie, invite her to party. She is fun. Make sure to tell her don't bring Weight Watchers' snacks this year, blah. Who's she kidding? Ask her if she thinks cash-strapped Windsors would sell me Balmoral and let Charles stay as my Eng-lish tutor. She doubts it; Camilla jealous type. Poo.
Thursday: Palace advisor found intensive language program in "double wide" in Orlando in Florida. This is same genius who advise me go see "Planet of the Apes." P.U.! Think he just wants to go to Disney, ride carousel. Still, could be fun to try to blend in, will really learn the language that way. Find out if "double wide" means "resort."
Next Thursday: Distressed. Driver spent one day in Orlando traffic and quit, said curse words even Fergie avoids. She promise to visit me in my apartment, which is size of my shoe closet at home. Yeah, right. Probably the lite beer talking. Anyway, looking forward to classes. Maid is only company and she spends all day with headphones on. She forgets she's wearing them and sings "Lady Marmalade" out loud while vacuuming. Ugh, worse than Stephanie. I'm so lonely.
10 Days Later. Busy, busy! Classes are fun. Double wide means "giant can." Everything weird here, but classmates are nice. Am blending in, except when girl asked, "Where did you get your earrings?" and I said "Sultan of Brunai." She asked which mall that's in. Shwew. Learned to say, "I got it at Ross." Stupid maid washed jeans with wallet in pocket. Probably distracted, trying to hit high notes on "Lady Marmalade." Am going to throw that Walkman into a tree.
Two weeks later: Washing of bank cards and credit cards ruined magnetic strip, making me cash poor. Decided to sell driver's "shitÃ¢" as they say here, as he will likely never come back. Didn't like wide screen TV anyway, everything so gigantic. Worst was watching hospital channel, saw show about someone giving birth. Threw up into Prada bag.
Novelty is way wearing off being poor. I miss my friends and my ostrich-feather mattress. Wish maid would get a new song, this is becoming Chinese water torture on the ears. Yesterday cried during "Ally McBeal" episode where Billy dies (sniff). Glad-wide screen TV gone, made her look like a Stop sign. I have cramps.
Next day: Maid switch to "Who Let the Dogs Out?" ...
I see no point in going on. It's all speculation. And when the princess gets sprung from all this, she might want a local pal to hang out with, do her roots, accompany her to Bali for the weekend. My tiara has been polished and waiting for years.
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