One day, the Noriega look-alike gave me roses. I think we were coming back from some horrible fast food joint, like Subway. He stopped at a street vendor selling flowers out of large white buckets. You know these people: they get dropped off in the morning, almost thrown out of the back of a white van in strange and no-so-strange places. I didn't know who Little Noriega was buying roses for, but then it all became clear. He turned, a smile coming into to pock-marked face, handed them to me, and then ran away. Seriously. It was almost a sprint. He said something like: "don't say anything."

There I was, standing downtown with a dozen roses given to me by a man who thought that I was his boyfriend (despite the fact that I was clearly interested in women). Anyway, I took the flowers back to my office where a co-worker said: "oh, those need water." He busied himself getting a vase and arranging the flowers. It occurred to me that perhaps he needed the boyfriend.

The next day, Noriega came by and read to me a personal ad had been planning to submit to a paper. He claimed that there was no longer any need, since he had met me. I corrected him and told him that he had jumped to conclusions. In fact, I wrote it down, since I wanted something on paper, given that we worked for the same employer. I worried that he would stalk me. He did show up a few times, but he finally got the picture. The worst part was really enduring Water World on the big screen. The rest was simply an irritation.

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