Non-Verbals and Cultural Cues

While I am the first to admit that my Spanish is terrible, I have been proud about my ability to pick up a few key phrases here and there, which when accompanied with hand motions seem to get my point across (for example, "uno café con leche para llevar" while I roll my hands in a moving wheel motion and point out the door).  However, last night I discovered that the non-verbals and body cues which permeate American culture, do not translate, and that I have much to learn about the non-verbal behaviors which accompany the Spanish language. After enjoying a wonderful evening of Flamenco, Nicole, Katie, Anna, and I decided to hit the town and meet up with the boys in Chueca.  The four of us were standing in the Arguelles metro stop waiting for our train when an unattractive guy, who looked to be about our age, approached me. He had reddish-brown hair and was wearing a dirty button down oxford, light faded jeans, and track shoes. He immediately started speaking to me in surprisingly good English (despite his thick accent) which promoted me to ignore his rotting yellow-brown teeth and respond. He began with the typical questions, where are you from? are you a tourist or student? etc. With each question he seemed to move closer to my person, as I simultaneously tried to lean further back into the wall. When I explained that we were from Colorado and not affiliated with a University in Spain in a short tone I hoped he would get the hint and leave me alone. He did not.
He continued to ramble on and asked if I knew if any exchange students were still in Madrid. He was worried that the night club he was headed to would be empty because it was apparently the hot spot for English-speaking exchange students (As he grinned I couldn't help but imagine all the poor un-expecting American girls who would be subjected to this guy's bad breath and forward nature). I told him there were plenty of exchange students still around and that he should be fine in a very short and cold tone as I turned away and tried to look to the other girls for some help. This is when he stepped even closer to me, his shirt almost touching my cowering body. "My name is Palo," he said, and swooped in for the double cheek kiss. Instinctively I said, "no!" as I put my hand up to his approaching body and pushed him away. He looked very puzzled then winked at me and went back to his friend. The metro, while only a minute away, seemed to take an hour as he continued to make eye contact with me and restart the conversation.
While I do not want to hate on or judge any Spanish men for their forward approach towards women, I am not a fan of 'close talkers' and I really dislike strangers who don't get the hint when I'm not trying to converse with them. In retrospect, I wish I had been smoother/more polite about ending the conversation without having to physically push him away, but do not regret my definitive response. It just goes to show that the idea of the 'easy American tourist' has not died in everyone's eyes. If anything, this experience has made me grow a tougher skin and helped me become more conscious of my dress and appearance