The Kissing Gardener

We’ve had the same gardener for a couple of years.  He’s a great guy and eager to please.

There’s just this one little thing.

He’s very friendly.

VERY FRIENDLY.

Ordinarily, this would not be a problem.  Except.  He likes to kiss. Me.

It started simply enough.  I asked him to do a little extra in the yard last year.  Change out some plants, plant some flowers.  He was happy for the work.  He kissed me.  OK, I thought, he’s just expressing his gratitude.  That’s cool.

But then, the next time he saw me, he greeted me with a kiss.

I swear, only through my lightening quick reflexes did the kiss land squarely on my cheek.  Otherwise…!!!

It became a pattern.  A greeting kiss.  A see you later kiss.  And, I’ve really had the practice that quick face turn.  There have been many a near-miss! 

Last week he “greeted” me as I pulled into the garage after driving my husband home from a medical procedure.  Did I note a little surprise when Jeff got out of the car and he had just planted one on me?

Now, I like kissing as much as the next girl, but I’m kinda old fashioned.  Spouse, family, close friends. 

You can never overestimate the value of a good handshake.  I’d even settle for the ever popular air kiss.

 

OK, I’m a little uptight.  My friends keep telling me it’s nothing.  De nada.  It’s cultural. 

My response has been to hole up somewhere away from the windows on gardener days so he doesn’t know I’m home.  Even better, I plan NOT to be home.  I swear, he finds excuses to talk to me.  I know, now I’m just being paranoid.  It’s not like I’m overwhelming him with my revealing attire and flirtatious ways.  Kind of the opposite, I think.  Maybe he likes slightly dowdy middle-aged ice maidens?