True story: 'The night I met Prince Harry. Swoon.'

The Mamamia team writes:

You’d struggle to find a person who hasn’t heard about Prince Harry’s recent naked romp in Vegas the other week – especially considering that the romp was caught on camera phone and shared amongst women across the world faster than you could say, “but where was his security?”

It turns out Prince Harry is very good at brushing off his security guards. Sneaky Harry.

Now, a woman who claims to have been with the Prince that night has spilled all the details.

32-year-old San Diego based beautician, Carrie Reichert, told The Mirror that he was partying at the hotel with friends when she was approached by one of his entourage and asked if she wanted to join his private party.

When she arrived at the party, she said Harry was already naked and playing air guitar with a pool stick. She says Harry was encouraging everyone to strip off, and was pressing his body up against the penthouse window saying, ‘Look at me, Vegas!'”

Well – we’ve got our very own Mamamia reader who has met Prince Harry. Brooke Falvey writes… 

I am one of those women who loves to have the last word, especially when it comes to dealings with the opposite sex.

I’ve been described as chatty, sarcastic, witty and downright annoying. What I’ve never been called is quiet.

Until I met Harry. As in Prince Harry. The one who fights in Afghanistan, does charity work, jumps into pools half-clothed and plays strip billiards. Swoon.

It was after 3am one Sunday morning and I had been out with my flatmates—girls from the Gold Coast and Sydney—celebrating one of their birthdays.

The club we were in had closed for the night and while the crowd had spilled out onto the street in search of kebabs and cabs we were still inside because the birthday girl, Ellen, had lost her coat check ticket.

My flatmate Carly and I were standing by the bar cursing Ellen’s carelessness; we had spent all of our money on cover charge and cocktails so we wanted to get a night bus home.

And then a group of rather attractive guys and girls spilled out of the VIP area.

Carly and I did a double take and realised we were looking at Prince Harry and his band of merry friends. He was absolutely gorgeous; taller than I expected, broad and well-built. No one has ever made a collared shirt and chinos look so good—except Ryan Gosling.

And then there was his signature cheeky grin and eyes that twinkle with trouble. He looked like the kind of guy who could throw you over his shoulder and carry you away for a deliciously wicked adventure.

In that split second, I thought of Mary. No, not the Virgin Mary. Our Princess Mary—Tasmania’s favourite girl-next-door who met a Crown Prince Frederik of Denmark at the pub during the Sydney Olympics. Was this it? Could I meet a Prince in a club and have my own happy ending? I had certainly kissed enough frogs.

So I’ll admit I’m a couple of years older than Harry and while he lived in a palace, I was sharing a four bedroom flat in Putney with five others. But I was working at Harrods and I am blonde and we all know the party-loving prince also fancies fair-haired girls and he’d just stumbled upon two blonde, blue-eyed Aussies.

With his minder in tow, Prince Harry headed over to us while he mates all headed to the lift. Carly and I smiled, perhaps like maniacs. He was close enough to touch.

He smiled back at us, the glorious grin. He seemed to be waiting for us to say something, anything.

But I had nothing. Not a word. The girl who never shuts up and always has a comeback was speechless. Carly wasn’t any better.

His minder tried to coax some words out of us, laughing with his young charge that he’d left us speechless and in the end Harry chuckled, shrugged and left to join his mates.

The moment they were gone, the words tumbled out in rapid succession.”Was that? It was! Why didn’t we? I can’t believe it! He approached us! OH MY GOD!”

I’m surprised our families back in Queensland couldn’t hear the squealing across the globe, but just in case we were on the phone within moments.

“Mum. Mum. Prince Harry just came up to us in a bar!,” I squealed down the line.

The Prince had aptly stolen the crown of ‘the biggest celebrity I’d met’ off former NBA basketballer Dennis Rodman, who I had the chance to interview while he was in Brisbane on a press junket in early 2008.

The heavily tattooed TV star was everything you’d expect; loud, brash and almost two hours late for the interview. He also propositioned me, offering to throw me down in front of the fireplace and have his way with me.

Not on your life, Rodman.

Staring down the beast seemed to work because half an hour later I found myself at dinner in with him and his manager… well, I wasn’t going to sleep with him but who says no to a free feed?

Brooke Falvey is a former journalist, blogger and dreamer. She lives in Brisbane, is currently in-between boyfriends and survives mostly on grilled cheese sandwiches. You can find her online here.

What celebrities have you met and did they live up to your expectations?