Friday, the 13th

185

It was the morning of Friday the thirteenth and my wife and I were having breakfast. The subject of the date came up and the conclusion was that there probably was no real connection between all the unlucky things that happen on that day and the random numerical happenstance. It was just likely that superstitious folks were more apt to have odd things happen to them because their beliefs were setting them up for unfortunate circumstances, and other breakfast table speculations.

With that, I got into my truck, pulled out onto the boulevard and noticed that the pavers had finally gotten around to striping the new pavement. There was a young man laying down markings for the striping truck with a down-squirting spray can on a stick. He was out in the middle of the road. I also caught out of the corner of my eye a new BMW speeding up behind me. I could notice the two people engaged in conversation with arm gesturing and such, and I knew they would never see the kid with the spray can so I blew the horn and pulled over to the right, running onto the side of the road.  The young worker looked up, and got out of the way of the beemer which now had moved left to pass me. Just as the new shiny Beemer ran carelessly around me, the worker in the road seamlessly lifted his spray can and deposited a nice white stripe all down the side of the speeding car. He gave me a nod as I went by and followed the beemer down the island. By the time I got where I was going, the two in the car had never noticed anything and were still in animated conversation.

They must have gone all the way to their destination before getting out and seeing the white stripe, dry by now, down the side of that new car. Friday the thirteenth, CAR-MA.

 

Steve Roberts

Fort Myers Beach