At times, reporting can be royal pain

My invitations got lost in the mail -- again -- so I won't be attending the royal wedding or The King of Vegas nuptials. That may be a good thing because I occasionally find myself in some royal run-ins. Loyal readers may recall a few of those jams.

The first one came a few weeks after I joined the Review-Journal in 1999. Some MGM Grand security guards showed me the door after I approached "007" star Pierce Brosnan for quotes after a messy Mike Tyson fight.

Less than a year later, the Hard Rock Hotel's head of security informed me I was no longer welcome after I reported Ben Affleck had won $666,000 and generously tipped dealers and cocktail servers more than $100,000.

It wasn't that my facts were wrong, I was told. It was that the Hard Rock had to make a strong statement so it didn't look like they were feeding me gossip. (They weren't.)

By the way, given recent events, I can't resist retelling this aside: Some of you will recall that Affleck checked into rehab a day or so later. He was driven there by a friend who had been down that road before, one Charlie Sheen.

It's one thing to have a casino peeved at a reporter digging for some celebrity scoop. But it was a whole different ballgame when a prince from Britain's royal family grabbed me and ordered me out of a party.

That royal ruckus took place in a swank Beverly Hills hotel in April 1984.

As coordinator of the Los Angeles Summer Olympics for The Associated Press, I was assigned to cover a $1,000-a-plate fundraiser for the British Olympic Committee.

Because Prince Andrew was the featured speaker, reporters were given protocol tips: Speak to the prince only if he initiates the conversation, shake hands only if he offers his first and refer to him as "Your Royal Highness.''

But, his handlers said, he wouldn't be at the champagne reception, thus unlikely to be available for comment.

My main assignment was to cover his speech and, if possible, follow up on his skirmish with the media the day before. At a low-income housing development, the prince, no fan of the media, turned a high-powered spray gun on reporters at the event. Suits, dresses and cameras were sprayed with paint.

With the reception winding down, and only a few notes for my story, I approached two young women in hopes of gathering some quotes about the prince known as "Randy Andy," for his recent fling with soft-porn actress Koo Stark.

Barely a minute into the conversation, their eyes lit up as someone approached behind me. I turned to find Prince Andrew offering a handshake.

I gulped, trying to recall the protocol ground rules.

All I got out was my name and "Associated Press."

"Press?'' he said, biting off the word. "Did you say press?''

"Yes,'' I said.

"Out!'' he said, thrusting a thumb toward the door.

I stood my ground, explaining I had press credentials and that reporters were told he wasn't attending.

"Out!'' he repeated.

When I didn't budge, he grabbed my tuxedo lapels. I envisioned a career-ending Fleet Street headline: "Reporter Tossed Out of Party by Prince Andrew."

Finally, he said, with contempt, "Trust I didn't get any (paint) on you yesterday.''

"No,'' I said. "I wasn't there.''

"A pity,'' he said, turning on his heel.

My biggest regret: It was a royal choke job, worst of my career. I was the only reporter who talked to him, and I didn't even get a question out about the paint-spraying incident.

SIGHTINGS

Gladys Knight, surprising the audience Tuesday at George Wallace's show (Flamingo) after her performance at the Tropicana. She sang at Wallace's show and did a Q&A.

THE PUNCH LINE

"Embark on a controversial 'My Perky Torpedo of Truth' Tour." -- From David Letterman's Top Ten Katie Couric's Future Plans

Norm Clarke can be reached at (702) 383-0244 or norm@reviewjournal.com. Find additional sightings and more online at www.normclarke.com. Follow Norm on Twitter @Norm_Clarke.