I took a brief break from finding Wills. Upon reentry to thecountry, customs officials tried to deny me entrance! I was afraidthey heard about my stalking, but the truth is I didn’t have theproper school documentation.

I tried to explain I study in a trailer behind The Macy House.Jolly good news though, after a few tears and a New Years Eve photoI was allowed into the country, and am now refocusing on my goals.In the continuance of my quest to find Wills I visited hisgrandmother’s home and saw the room in which he was baptized.Progress.

After this I began to wonder if there were other bachelors I hadoverlooked in Great Britain. Forcing myself to overlook actualeligibility, physical abnormality and hygiene I discovered somerather interesting gents.

John Travolta: He came equipped with hip thrusts and an accent,and it was obvious I did everything to attract him. Apparently,white, one-piece jumpsuits and gold metal belts are hot (or retroenough for John). It was a priceless addition to my wardrobe and asteal at ����1 (roughly $1.59). When the song “Brown Eyed Girl”played he tried to sing along, but it sounded more like acombination of “psch, schp, dptch,” and spitting noises. Gross.

Australia: I actually fancied this one. Lucas was single enoughto party in our courtyard, but then I heard the kiss of death. “Ihave a girlfriend living in my flat.” Ouch.

Sr. Juan: He showered my roommates and I with gifts. As owner ofa local pub, The Rock, he gave us romantic things like calendarsand posters (that looked more like old placemats) of the Rock ofGibraltar. Don’t get me wrong, he’s hot, but with kids almost myage and a wife – he was just out of my league.

Dave: Homeless and jobless. He needs a flat more than agirlfriend.

Albania: I could smell him before I could see him, and it wasnot the cologne. He should have spent the money from hisnon-alcoholic Red Bull on soap.

Goiter Head: I had the extreme pleasure of sitting next to himat the symphony. He knew EVERYTHING about music and had a jumbledcomment about each song. “This one’s French/Italian/in honor of9/11 etc.” He was from London (a rarity), but has a Scottish name,which he refused to tell me! It was only after intermission that Isaw the golf ball sized growth on the other side of his baldinghead and his pants hiked up to his breastbone. Can you believe Ilet him one get away?

Carlos: I saw him daily, which is good if you’re trying to getto know someone. I was willing to look past the butt-brushingponytail, but it’s likely he works for a Mexican drug ring. He’s anemployee at the caf���� next door where they sell hotdogs,mini-cab services, internet minutes and possibly drugs. His cellphone rings more often than R. Kevin’s.

There have been a slew of others including a Jason Mickey lookalike, cocky French model (still questionable) and believe it ornot none of them are potential dates. Turns out everyone here iseither 1) from Iowa, 2) married or 3) over 25. After such anunsuccessful venture I must continue my search for my prince.