Men are like a box of chocolates

I have been wishing (with special fairy dust and everything) for something romantic to happen recently, and I have come to the usual harsh truth that I married the wrong nationality.

The standard Aussie bloke is never going to be Richard Gere in pretty woman.  But then if we lumped together all the American men and squeezed them out of a mold, they are unlikely to come out like Richard Gere either!

The British?! Possibly, provided the footy isn't on, we remember Friday is for the lads and you have to understand you get a good deal at Pizza Hut.

Oh the Italians, fine men, so swarve, so refined and so unfaithful.  I'll put the French into that bucket too!

So where have all the hero's gone?  There's a lot of Spaniards in my life at the moment and very dashing they are too.  Not quite all Enrique (I'd settle for his father!) but my word, I think they would give him a run for his money, but I think temper sparks would fly far too often.

So which nation do you think is most likely to turn out a true romantic?  I have a horrible feeling I'm turning into Shirley Valentine, please interrupt me if you catch me talking to the wall.