Times are tough being a bachelor. But praise the ages I’m not alone.

I met Thomas (no joke, he’s nicknamed Froggy) at a local bar during this past holiday season. Froggy sat on a stool sniffing empty shot glasses that had been washed and stacked. Sitting on the stool next to him I asked, “What are you doing?”

Froggy rubbed his bulging eyes and replied, “I can tell who’s been here, what they drank, and if they were female. I can sniff out companionship.”

I had stopped at the bar for a shot of whiskey but instead ordered a beer and curiously watched Froggy. Following three more whiffs of empty shot glasses, he singled one out and placed it beside his beer bottle. “She’ll be here,” he grinned, running a hand over his hairless head.

We talked for an hour, all the while my mind on the empty shot glass. I realized that I was involved in a fairy tale and that Froggy was the main character. He was lonely, waiting for a princess to make him whole again. All represented by an empty shot glass. I empathized with the guy, bought him a shot of tequila, and got up to leave.

“Wait, don’t go,” he croaked. “It’s almost midnight. She’ll be here.”

I looked around the bar. The only princess I saw was a guy dressed in drag passed out in the corner. “Look, Frog, I’m on the fly.”

“Froggy,” Thomas corrected me. “Bartender, can I have the worm at the bottom of that tequila bottle?” he asked.

“You should probably go back to your pad,” I said, buttoning my coat. “If you eat that agave worm you’ll be playing leap frog over the bar stools,” I chuckled.

Froggy didn’t seem particularly amused. In a flash, his tongue darted and snatched the worm he was holding. He swallowed quickly and smacked his lips. I realized at that moment maybe my life wasn’t so bad. At least I’ve been beaten with a newspaper for admiring someone’s nearly-of-age daughter who I thought to be a New York City model, slapped in the face for asking a well-endowed woman if the club name Hooter’s came before or after the chest, and kicked in the groin for asking a lady if she was “born in a brewery because I’d sure like to pop your top.”

I felt good that I wasn’t eating worms and pouring all my hope in a shot glass.

As I headed out the door, Froggy asked if I wanted to meet his sister. I politely declined. She’s probably a real toad.

Quesadillas

Large flour tortillas
Grated cheese – mild or sharp cheddar, or Monterey Jack
Butter

Melt approximately 1 tablespoon of butter in a fry pan and heat until hot. Be sure melted butter covers the entire bottom of pan. Place one large flour tortilla in the pan. Flip the tortilla over a few times, about 10 seconds between flips. Air pockets should begin to form within the tortilla. When pockets of air begin to form, sprinkle a handful of grated cheese over the top of the tortilla but don’t layer too thick. If you want a chicken quesadilla, add some diced cooked chicken. Reduce heat to low and cover the pan. After about a minute, check to see if the cheese is melted. If not, return the cover and keep checking until the cheese is melted. When the cheese is melted, fold the tortilla in half like an omelet. Heat the tortilla until it is browned on both sides. Remove from pan and cut into wedges. Good with sour cream or salsa.