Lost in London by Tam Ames
Kevin heaved a sigh, leaned against the wall of a shop with a window full of tutus, and dropped his backpack at his feet. He gazed around at the intersection trying to find some indication of the street name. Was it really so damn difficult for the British to label their streets properly? He finally caught sight of a sign: Drury Lane. Oh well, whoop-dee-doo, maybe he could find the freaking muffin man who could tell him where the hell he was.
He felt like pulling out his hair, although the closer he got to thirty the more paranoid he was about going bald. Not that he was going bald, thank God. He didn’t need one more strike against him in the dating scene. Most guys only wanted to know your gym routine and how much money you made. His answer was “Gym?” and “I’
