Why don't you kiss me? I am a princess.
by Martin Spernau
Wednesday, August 1, 2012
“Why don’t you kiss me, for I am a Princess!”
The voice had clearly come from somewhere by the rail of the bridge, but there was no one there. Brian moved closer to the rail, checking his watch and decideing he had at most 5 minutes to dally here.
“Over here, sweety. On the rail.”
He heard the voice agian, clear and rather feminine, if a bit high pitched. The only thing Brian could make out was something small and rather green sitting on top of the rail. Moving closer he identified it as a frog, of the normal kind. One of the grass-frog variety, and it was a pretty one as frogs go. He stood a feet away and looked as closely as he could from that distance.
“You can take me in your hand if you want. You know, I don’t bite or anything. Not that I could, if I wanted to.” Spoke the green frog on the rail.
Brian backed off a bit, but then drew up close, his curiosity fully engaging now.
“You can talk?” He asked the frog, who for all manners and purposes looked exactly like a green grass type frog might.
“Why don’t you kiss me? I’m a princess!” The frog repeated it’s opening line.
Brian nodded to himself and stretched out a hand to the frog on the rail. As the green amphibian climbed onto the offered hand, Brian gently cupped his hand and proceeded to transfer it to his shirt pocket. Then, with another quick glance at his watch, Brian trudged off down the street on his habitual stroll to work.
Nothing else was said all the way to Brian’s office. The green frog did struggle slightly to position itself in the shirt pocket so that it could survey the world passing by. When Brian reached his office, he opened up a lower drawer in his desk and took out one of the unused Star Trek coffee cups that had been collecting dust there. For cups in a drawer, these had managed to collect a surprising amount of dust. From the top of the desk he took up the dusty cup’s equal twin, and with two cups in hand he walked down the corridor to the small kitchenette. Arriving there he placed the not-dusty cup beside a coffee maker, and rinsed it’s twin in the sink. The frog in his shirt pocket watched all this with stunned amazement, while Brian dried off the now clean cup and filled the other one with hot and dark liquid from the coffee maker. Then he returned to his own office and set both cups down on his desk beside the assortment of large and expensive looking screens. Finally he inserted his hand carefully into his shirt pocket and lifted the green occupant out of it. Looking it over quickly, he set the frog down into the now clean and still empty cup, taking up the other, coffee-filled one as he sat down in his office chair. Taking a large gulp from his cup, his attention fully turned to the screens while his free hand reached for the mouse.
“Why don’t you kiss me! I am a princess!” came a slightly desperate sounding attempt from the cup.
“Sssshh. I’m working.” Brian replied, and that was the end of that.
The frog continued to watch Brian working for maybe half an hour, but finally lost interest and huddled up in it’s cup, looking miserable and quite a bit sorry for itself.
The afternoon passed, with only a short break for Brian to re-fill his cup. When it finally grew dark outside the office window, Brian stretched and seemed to notice the occupied cup for the first time in a long while.
“We are going to a bar. You’ll meet my friends, like that?” He asked the sullen green thing. Hearing Brian’s voice put some new life into the amphibian, and it poked it’s head out over the rim of the cup again.
“Why don’t you kiss me? I am a princess!” it tried, hopefully.
Brian smiled, shook his head and took up the little green frog again, gently placing it in it’s place in his shirt pocket.
When they arrived at the bar, many of Brian’s friends were already there. The place did not usually see this much business during the week, and it’s regular clientele seemed taken slightly aback by the sudden influx of nerdy types sipping non-alcoholic drinks at the bar. Brian was greeted eagerly, and given prize place at the counter. Large expectant grins surrounded him. He took out the amphibian from the pocket and gently sat it on the counter, careful to put it in a spot that was relatively free of beer spills. The frog gazed up at Brian, then took a quick survey of the other faces. It swallowed hard and then said:
“Kiss me, I am a princess.” ventured the frog, not sounding all to confident.
All onlookers reacted by seriously nodding their heads and patting Brian on the shoulders. Some even ordered a drink and scattered in the bar, forming small groups and discussing in low voices. Brian took a look at his watch, finished the drink someone had bought him and scooped up the frog. Patting it affectionately, he returned it to his pocket and left the bar.
At home, not too far away from the bridge with the rail, Brian searched his kitchen cupboard for a clean glass, which he set on the night stand beside his bed. The frog, by now used to being ferried about in the shirt pocket, observed all this with growing anxiety. Brian brushed his teeth, went to the toilet, put his shoes away in the hall and finally retired to the bedroom, the little frog riding his shirt pocket all the way. Standing beside the bed, he lifted the amphibian out of it’s travel seat, and placed it in the glass on the bedside stand, taking off his wristwatch and placing it right beside the glass. Then he undressed un-ceremonially and made to crawl into bed.
“Why don’t you kiss me? I really am a princess.” The sad little frog offered in a weak voice.
Brian bent down to the frog and whispered in a soft tone: “You see, a talking frog is really cool. But I just don’t have the time for a girlfriend.”
And with that he turned off the light and that was that.
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alles Bild, Text und Tonmaterial ist © Martin Spernau, Verwendung und Reproduktion erfordert die Zustimmung des Authors