An embarassing little problem.

This morning I was kissed on the cheek by a man who wasn't my fiance. And it was uninvited.

Let me start at the beginning.

A few weeks ago, I walked out of my glorious new apartment on a fresh summer morning and came upon a gardener watering the plants. "Trabajar?" he asked me. (Do you work? Are you going to work? for those who don't speak the language). I made a crucial mistake. "Si" I answered. Apparently no one really speaks Spanish to this poor soul.

The rest of the conversation that followed was sort of a blur. He mentioned the weather, asked me if I worked in Culver City and introduced himself. His name is Angel (aHn - Hel : phonetically for those of you who care.) Then he gushed about how beautiful my name was. I chalked it up to a little Romeo flirting and left it at that.

But it got worse, much worse.

This morning I walked out of my complex and there Angel was, doing his thing. He stopped entirely to talk about how hot it has been. Then he started in on me, something about how flat my stomach is (NOT) and that I must exercise a lot (NOT). And then, like a bad movie, he leaned in. AND. KISSED. ME. ON. THE. CHEEK.

Por favor - what do I do now?!?!?!?