Sunday, January 17, 2010

Frog #2 - Friend turned wanna-be Frog


If I'm being honest, this really isn't Frog #2. It's more like Frog #1, Frog #3, Frog #6, etc. Or, put another way, this frog exists at the intersection of low self-esteem and too much wine.

Friend turned "Wanna-Be" Frog is a guy I've known for 12 years. In fact, I used to be his boss. Let's hop in the DeLorean time machine and I'll tell you a little story . . . The year was 1995. I've been out of college for three years with a useless teaching degree from a liberal arts college and the country is in a recession. The only paying jobs I can find are in retail, fast food, or childcare. By day, I'm a teacher, barely earning minimum wage. By night, I'm working in a call center as a bill collector for delinquent retail store credit cards. Sadly, the night job pays twice as much as my day job.

I've just met Mr. Wrong and we're madly in love. We move in together. We eat a lot of ramen noodles, we smoke cigarettes like lung cancer doesn't apply to us, and we are mainlining coffee to stay awake. I'm supporting both of us while Mr. Wrong tries to "find" himself after leaving the military, and I'm working two jobs to do it. I look like shit, I feel like shit, and I'm not going to make it.

Summer comes and I'm trying to figure out how to land a teaching gig for the next school year, when something strange happens. My night job offers me a huge promotion. I'm the only person working 2nd shift with a college degree, so I'm something of an anomaly. "They" are impressed. They offer me a job in management at a salary that will pay 25% more than I'm making at both of my jobs combined right now. Where do I sign?

I sell out and I become a collections manager. Mr. Wrong? Still unemployed. I have no idea what the hell I'm doing but suddenly, I'm managing a team of 30 people. I figure it out as I go along. One of my employees is Frog #2. He's a college student at a school about an hour away from where we work, and he's just moved to the United States from a small Indian sub-continent. His English is both atrocious and adorable, and I'm amused that he's been hired for a phone job based on his interesting communication style.

As it turns out, Wanna-Be Frog is my best employee. He is never absent or tardy, he exceeds expectations and works hard. I'm interested in his education and we talk about school. As it turns out, he is actually the same age as me but only halfway through his bachelor's degree because he's just arrived in the U.S. We remain friendly even after I leave the company in 1998, and I help him apply to graduate schools. Thanks to the wonder that is the internet, we are able to stay in touch using that newfangled technology, email.

Of course, life happens and I lose track of Wanna-Be Frog. Mr. Wrong takes up almost all of my time and attention and any male friends on my part cause stress in our relationship, so I stop having them altogether. But the Wanna-Be Frog is persistent. He seeks me out using tricky internet tools like LinkedIn and right after the demise of my relationship with Mr. Wrong, Wanna-Be Frog and I reconnected.

He's lost weight in the 12 years since I last saw him. He's also lost his hair. All of it. Unlike your average white guy, he looks okay without hair. His English has really improved. We get together for a drink and it's fun. So we decide to do it again.

I quickly learn that Wanna-Be Frog is recently divorced and that there is nothing he likes more than a good time. He parties like a rock-star, and if I'm honest, I wonder if he might not have a chemical dependency problem. But he's a lot of fun and he's always up for a good time, so we start spending more and more time together. And then, one night after a lot of wine, Wanna Be Frog is kissing me and it's not horrible. I am horribly lonely, I feel like a leper, and the fact that any man might find me kissable is frankly, shocking to me. And let's be clear. My judgment isn't exactly top-notch. I'm drunk. He's telling me that he loves me - he has for years, apparently. He thinks I'm too thin (okay, marry me, please?) and he tells me I am the most beautiful woman he's ever met. And then he says the words I have been waiting to hear from any man my entire life. "You are the kindest person I know."

I sober up and wonder what I've done. I feel horrible. I love Wanna-Be Frog! But this just isn't right. We're friends. That's all. This was a mistake.

Now, re-read the last two paragraphs and repeat this same encounter over and over and over. Until Wanna-Be Frog does the unthinkable. He proposes marriage, on Christmas Day, right before he gets on an airplane to return to his home country for the first time in ten years.

Is it sweet and lovely? Of course. But it makes me feel like the wicked witch of the west. Why does he love me so much? And why can't I feel the same way? How am I going to tell him no?

So, this princess smiles sweetly, gives her Wanna-Be Frog a hug and a kiss, and says, "Have a safe trip home. We'll talk about this when you get back." And then this princess? She gets into her car and has to sit in the airport parking ramp for an hour until she's done crying her eyes out.

This story? It's not over yet. The Wanna-Be Frog is due back from the homeland this week, and our princess is trying to figure out how to break his heart without losing one of her only playmates.



© 2010 Princess D


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