Four Leaf Clover

They say bad luck comes in threes. Your cat dies, your car tire goes flat, and your job calls you to tell you business has been slow and your hours are being cut. Sound familiar? Or maybe it’s something small. You break your favorite watch, you stub your toe, and you dropped that twenty dollars in your wallet walking down the street. All bad things, all at the worst time. All consecutively in a row.

For me it only seems to keep piling on. Not just three events but four, five, seven even. A death in the family. A last minute move that ultimately cost you to lose your friends and your job. You’re hit with debt after debt and then let’s top it off with a betrayal. The one you thought to be your true love just proving everything you trusted in them to be completely wrong. Oh, and yeah you also had that flat tire and lost not twenty but seventy dollars. Got bronchitis. Had to go to court. You get the jist. 

I can’t say it wasn’t too much to bare. It absolutely was. This felt like no ordinary “bad luck”. Did I walk under a ladder? Come across a black cat? Break a mirror? Open an umbrella inside? 

My fingers gently tapped against the cold icy beer glass. Unconsciously aware of the fact I had been fixated on an unopened bottle of Makers Mark. Probably for a few seconds too long. 

“Was that beer okay? Did you want me to get you something else?” 

I break back to reality. The bartenders worrisome eyes surveyed over me. Maybe a hint of annoyance crammed under the surface. 

“Oh” I stutter. “Yes, yes, this great. Sorry” a weak smile creeps over my lips. Hopefully long enough to convince him to walk away. Move on to a less complicated customer. He places his palms against the wooden bar top. He leaned in to somehow presume the conversation. My attempt had failed. 

“When people worry or stress and need a release they usually end up at a bar. Take a few shots and shake that shit right out. Yet, you’re here with a full pint for about..” he glances down at his wrist “thirty minutes now. Your stress might just be too much for that quick fix.” 

I let out a sigh. Straighten out my posture. Brace myself to actually hold out this human to human interaction. “Have you ever had a streak of bad luck before?” I question him. 

He grins. Probably wondering why I’d ask such a stupid question. Of course everyone does but I wanted to hear him say it. Maybe it would assist me in feeling better.

“Yeah, I guess you could say I used to feel that way. Life doesn’t seem too bad now a days though.” He picks up a clean glass, gently running a green towel over the edges. “Did you need a way to fix your bad luck?” 

Before I could rebuttal I bring the warm beverage to my lips. The beer leaving behind a malty taste in my mouth. “How exactly are you capable of that?” 

With a shrug of the shoulders he responds oh so confidently. “I am capable of a lot more than pouring a good brew.” 

His attitude intrigued me. His charm tugged at my curiosity. This innocent response most likely not something he unintentionally looked for. This could of just been his line. A sure way to lure in sad women who needed a good strong shoulder to cry on. 

Amid the tension of our conversation a petit, polished women at the end of the bar waves her hand frantically. This gesture followed by a not so polite “excuse me” grabs the attention of my potential good luck charm. 

“Well then. “ I say. “You must get back to that job of yours and I am gonna figure out how to get back whatever luck I’ve lost.” With no sense of hesitation I throw back the rest of my booze and slap a twenty on the counter. 

“Keep the change.” 

My endless train of thought continues to run. Causing me to peruse down the cold empty streets of Kansas. Perhaps I had such bad luck because I lived in this ugly forsaken state. It was stripping me of all my potential. Yes, keep telling yourself that. I think. On the small illuminated screen of my phone I begin to type. Ways to get rid of bad luck. The first result a wiki how…with pictures! How helpful. 

I scroll through the article haphazardly. Salt, incense, stones, charms, and the most advantageous tip of all, avoid bad luck. Rolling my eyes I shove the device back in my pocket ready to stomp the rest of my way home. 

Minutes later I’m greeted by the sight of my front door. Delighted to end this day and escape to the world of sleep. There isn’t much bad luck there. I rummage through my bag In  attempt to locate my house key. Please, tell me it’s here, please. Of course it’s not in here. Why would it be right where I thought I left it? My eyes shut and I hold my breath in hopes to contain the last bit of my sanity. With the turn of my boot I swiftly do a 360. Off on another expedition to the bar. At least I was getting my cardio in. Got to keep those positive thoughts flowing. 

“Hey black cat!” I met with the familiar voice that stops me in my tracks. There five feet in front of me bar boy himself. Lovely. 

“So now you’re following me?” I ask. 

“You know being a stalker is only my side gig.” He teased. 

“You’re very funny but I need to get back to the bar I seemed to have left something.” I march forward advancing on my journey. 

“Your keys?” He shouts after me. 

“What?” I respond puzzled. 

“I have your keys.” He waves them in the air. The small silver bedazzled key chains captured the yellow hue of the street lights. “You left them on the bar top. I thought if I could get these back to you maybe your luck would start to get better.”

My eyes soften with appreciation. Emotional over such a gesture. He approaches me, the cold silver placed against my palm.

“So, can I still take you up on the offer of riding me of my bad luck?” I joke. 

“Just call me your new four leaf clover”