bad-breathed bus stalker

Do I write about this or would it be too mean-spirited? Is anyone interested in hearing about Javier, a balding man with dyed hair and bad breath, whom I met on my charter to Lujan one morning? A man whom after sharing a brief conversation with me showed up at my school with flowers as a welcome to Argentina?

After knocking on all the doors around my bus stop, asking where the English teacher works, he ended up at one of my student´s homes because her mother is an English teacher. Confused, thinking perhaps he wanted English lessons, she directed him to my school where he then asked a staff member to let him in so he could deliver the flowers in person. Of course she did not let him in, told him I was busy teaching, and that afternoon I found the flowers lying on top of the recess bin in the kitchen.

Well, after the thought of him greeting me one more morning with a touch on the shoulder and a kiss on the cheek and asking to sit next to me (causing me to become one with the window) I knew I had to stamp out this growing irritation before it became a full-blown molestation. So after a few mornings of pretending to be asleep with my backpack occupying the seat next to me, I finally faced him. As he leaned over to put his hand on my shoulder and kiss me on the cheek, I held out my hand, and said ¨NO!¨ and felt quite empowered. He still managed to grab my shoulder, but he got the picture. He asked if I got the flowers. I said yes, but that my boss was very angry. I cannnot have any visitors at school. He must never come to see me again. He explained that the flowers were not out of desire, they were because he admired me, a foreigner, that has come here, who has a vocation; he doesn´t have a vocation, he hates his job, etc., etc. And while I felt sorry for this man, I could hear my Dutch friend telling me, ¨You´re pathetic! You´re too nice to these old people. What are you even getting out of it? Tell them to take a hike.¨ So, I ignored the man and looked out the window.

Now he gets on the bus, greets and kisses an older woman who knits all the way to Lujan, her knitting spilling into and occupying the seat next to her. He then slumps down in the seat in front of me, falls asleep, and breaks wind like a mule all the way to Lujan.