I’m not superstitious, but you won’t catch me opening an umbrella inside or walking under any ladders.
I’m not asking for bad luck to find me, after all. I’m not a masochist.
It seems each family has its own set of superstitions and mine was no different.
Because of that upbringing and other experiences along the way, it’s become almost second nature for me to avoid doing things that would supposedly bring bad luck, even if I don’t actively believe there’s any real truth to these myths.
I’m not picking up any pennies or coins unless they’re showing “heads up,” and if there’s wood nearby, I’m knocking on it twice to avoid jinxes if the opportunity presents itself.
I’m actively avoiding catching the bouquet at weddings until I’m in a long-term relationship, and I’m not telling anyone my wishes if someone removes one of my fallen eyelashes or I blow out birthday candles.
If the Yankees are winning a close playoff game, I’m not moving from the couch for any reason until the game is over.
Every time I visited a friend at her former apartment, I always paused before going inside to reflect on how unfortunate it was that she ended up in Unit 13, a number that’s become so associated with bad luck that many high-rise apartment buildings and hotels simply omit the 13th floor from their design.
However, there’s been plenty of instances where I’ve completely disregarded the potential bad luck that was headed my way, but was reminded when others shared their own superstitions.
On one such occasion last year, I was making my dreams come true at Target when I had my long-desired full length mirror sitting in the store’s oversized shopping cart. Since my apartment lacks that luxury, I have to wait until I leave the house each day to find out if I look OK from the waist down.
Unfortunately, my dreams were shattered that day, along with the mirror, which I didn’t notice until I was about to place my purchase into the trunk of my car.
As I was so focused on the devastating loss, it wasn’t until I was making the return and the customer sales representative asked me how my day was going, aside from the “evil mirror,” that I realized I had just been cursed with seven years of bad luck.
Perhaps I can trace any unfortunate things that have happened over the past year to that fateful day. Or maybe, I was cursed much sooner.
About two years ago, I received a panicked voicemail from my mother asking if I was OK. After calling her back, I learned that she was worried that something bad had happened because a framed picture of me had fallen down at my parents’ house.
Apparently, a picture falling from the wall is a bad omen. Some believe it means the death of the subject in the photo, while other legends say it signifies an impending death in the family. A slightly tamer version of the superstition claims the family will be struck by bad luck.
As nobody has died since then (knock on wood), I can only assume that I’ve been lucky enough to be cursed with bad luck instead, which as we all know, comes in threes.
Even for those of us who claim to not be superstitious, I bet we all make it a point to say “God bless you,” when someone sneezes, as my co-worker, Ryan, insists that I remember to say each time he does.
Little did I know, that I was actually praising him for expelling evil spirits (not really so surprising, upon reflection) — in 6th century Europe, people congratulated anyone who sneezed with the phrase because of that belief.
So, this Friday the 13th, join me, a completely non-superstitious person, in anticipating the bad luck that is sure to come our way. However, here’s a word of advice: do yourself a favor and avoid black cats, umbrellas, ladders and mirrors.
It’s best not to tempt fate.