I’ve never really considered myself a superstitious person. The number 13 was only significant when I finally became a teenager, and even then it was only the bee’s knees for one year. All of those mirrors I managed to break over the years? I collect that shit and eat it for breakfast! And that whole bit about bad luck from walking under ladders is hogwash and balderdash. When you line them up in a hardware store, they just make for a fantastic obstacle course.
I think horseshoes hung over a door look nifty, but I’m not convinced they bring you luck.
When a black cat crosses my path, I only avoid it due to my cat allergy. Otherwise…WANT TO PET THE KITTY!
Not once have I been struck by lightning upon opening an umbrella inside.
Find a penny, pick it up, and now I have another penny. Hooray income!
I feel compelled to say “Bless you” after someone sneezes only because I was taught it was polite. It is, I feel, outside of my power to sufficiently bless anyone if a demon has decided to inhabit their nose and start a series of high pressure farts.
More often than not, when someone tells me to knock on wood I’m stuck in my car or somewhere equally woodless. Do you expect me to carry around mulch in my pocket?
Rabbit’s feet are not meant for your damn key chain!
The number 666 means very little to me. It’s always baffled me when customers in my grocery store would add a candy bar onto their order if three consecutive 6’s were in their total. Some were frantic about it.
I had a cat. He only had one life. He spent it kamikaze biting my mom’s ankles and my step dad’s toes. Silly Casper.
Okay…breaking a wishbone is really fun. But I never got my damn unicorn.
As hard as I tried not to when I was little, I couldn’t avoid stepping on some cracks. I’m happy to report that my mother’s back remains intact to this day.
I’m always sad to blow out my birthday candles. Fire is so pretty…
Mistletoe? Free kiss!
I had a four leaf clover once. For many years, I kept it hidden away taking it out only to admire its beauty. And then for whatever reason, it abandoned me. My only hope is that a hobbit found it and then cast it into a pit of fire. Yeah, I’m jaded. So what?
Tossing salt over your shoulder in a restaurant is a good way to blind an innocent child.
Etcetera, blah, blah, blah, yada yada, so on and so forth, amen. By no means is this an all inclusive list, but a point has been made. I’m generally not a superstitious kind of guy. It’s just not how I groove, baby.
That being said, I have a couple rules if you ever want to take a ride in my car:
- When passing under a yellow light, you must tap the ceiling. Think of this less as bringing on good luck and more as saluting the universe for giving us the chance to pass through in time without a ticket. If you disrespect the universe’s gift, I’ll give you severe stank face at every red light we’re now sure to encounter. Be warned.
- When going over train tracks, you will hold the ‘oh shit handle’ and lift your feet up off of the floor. If you manage to bring your knees to your chest, then you earn bonus points. I can’t stress how much this is non-negotiable. Accidents occurring as a result of your non compliance will, of course, be considered entirely your fault. I’ll send you a bill for the repairs.
But yeah, superstitions are dumb, don't you think?