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His name is Polypropylene. He is small, green, and has a white bow tie with little red hearts on it. He is The Frog God of Love.
His name came from the label that stuck out of his side. It looked like a good name for a Frog God. I found Polypropylene sitting on a desk when I moved into a new office. The previous owner had left him behind -- just him, a few crumbs, and a paper clip. It was like he was waiting for me. He had a mischievous smile on his froggy little lips. I adopted him and set him on the shelf above my computer. Underneath him I hung a simple quote from Peter Gabriel that said, "Lady kiss that frog." The Frog God of Love, I sensed, decided, and announced, would bring love to the individual who cared for him and who -- this was an important part -- proselytized about him. One had to tell others about his powers, I claimed, in order for The Frog God of Love to work his magic. Now and then it helped to light a candle in his name. I made this all up, of course, but I was lonely, and had no better way to spend my time. My office mates quickly surmised that I was insane. I thought The Frog God of Love was amazing because I quickly met a girl on the Internet, and after a brief friendship, we began dating (the girl and I, not the frog and I). When the relationship crashed and burned, well, I couldn't blame The Frog God. I was quick to announce that he was only capable of getting people together, but he was in no way responsible for how relationships came out. The Frog God's reputation could not be tarnished, after all, because then people would lose faith. Soon others wanted the benefits of The Frog God's gifts, and a waiting list was created. While I was recuperating from my last relationship, The Frog God made his way to other desks in the office. Rosa used him for a while, but had no luck meeting anyone. My friend Jim and I knew why though. Rosa had not told others about the Frog's powers. "You must proselytize about Polypropylene," I reiterated, and my friend Chad buried his head in his hands as he had taken to doing whenever I brought up The Frog God of Love. Polypropylene moved on to another desk where he, again, seemed to have no effect. Maybe he was recharging after the work he had done for me, we theorized. Eventually, Jim and I determined that Polypropylene simply did not work for females. This proved to be true when Jim, who was the next to adopt the frog, was successful in dating someone he had pursued. Oh yes, The Frog God worked. Have no doubts. Jim struggled with his relationship, like I had struggled with mine, but Jim was more persistent then me. Eventually, he would win out. The Frog God returned to my desk, having successfully completed his task, and I was ready for another round. The next round left me coughing and choking in the dust of a quickly retreating female. But The Frog God had done his job and could not be blamed. Still I kept him, and I kept the faith, and I talked about him. Eventually, (after a recharge period) he performed his magic again. This time it was powerful magic. I met Sharron and soon we were deeply in love. Both of us felt like we had been brought together by forces and circumstances greater than ourselves. As we held hands walking through an amusement park or laughed with each other at a restaurant table, I wondered if Polypropylene had planned this all along. Did he, I wondered, engineer my previously bad experiences in such a way so that this relationship would turn out so well? Who knows what went on inside that fluff ball of a skull. When I left that office where I had found him, I left The Frog God behind for some needful soul to find. He had done his work for me. Years later, my wife Sharron and I were at the movies, and we ran across Jim and his wife -- the lady that The Frog God had helped him to meet. I thought of Polypropylene and smiled blissfully, knowing that he was out there somewhere, working his wonders. |
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