Ah, fall. The season of pumpkin spice, falling leaves, and spooky tales and mysteries. Not to mention lots of superstitions.
Most of us, whether we admit it or not, are superstitious to some degree. Ever knock on wood? Toss salt over your shoulder? Avoid black cats?
At TJM, we’re not a particularly superstitious bunch, as you’ll see. But we do have a few, and here they are:
Walking under ladders.
Tipping salt over.
Black cats [Editor’s Note: Asked if she had ever had bad luck after a black cat crossed her path, Shannon responded “Definitely not, lol, but still a gremlin in my head.”]
Hold your breath driving past a graveyard.
Make a wish off an eyelash when it falls.
Pick up a penny in the parking lot if on heads. If not, you flip it to give someone else good luck.
Friday the 13th Caution.
I am not even remotely superstitious. I own a black cat, opened an umbrella inside multiple times last week. It was a sample from one of our umbrella suppliers. I walk under ladders if that’s the easy way through, and my handheld mirror in my bathroom is broken (I broke it accidentally). I walk on cracks in the sidewalk all the time as I can’t avoid them with my large stride. My life is pretty awesome considering, but who knows how much better it could be if I followed some of these ridiculous and outlandish beliefs.
[Editor’s Note: We have it on good authority from someone who knows him well that Matt once insisted on drinking only from a specific color cup.]
I would like to say I don’t believe in any superstitions at all. But I will say that once upon a time, a street rover in Hong Kong cursed me, and over the following 24 hours I lost my shoe, my watch, and my phone. So you won’t catch me walking under ladders any time soon.
[Editor’s Note: Justin declined to offer more specifics on how he lost the shoe.]
I’m not really big on superstitions. I own/am owned by a black cat, my second one. I don’t stress about 13s, or worry about a hat on the bed. But I do have a few.
One is a leftover from my days working in hospitals. Much like never saying “MacBeth” in a theater, you never, ever – ever — say the Q-word when things are running smoothly in a hospital.
You might think all is well, everything is tranquil and things are running fine in your department. But within 30 minutes or less of uttering the word “quiet,” things will go crazy.
Patients will crash. Equipment will break. Employees will call out sick. A fire alarm will sound. The E.R. will call a trauma alert. Or possibly all of the above. Simultaneously.
Oh, and if you’re foolish enough to utter the Q-word during a full moon, you are guaranteed to earn the wrath of every coworker in the building, especially in the E.R.
Then there was the voodoo curse.
In my days as a nursing home department manager, there was a particularly problematic employee in my department. Lionel didn’t care for me, and made sure I knew it. He threatened me one day with a voodoo curse. I laughed it off.
The next morning, walking into the building, I stepped on a curb the wrong way, badly spraining my ankle to the point that I had to be on crutches for a few days. Lionel took full credit for it. I still laughed it off, albeit while limping.
I can’t say I believe in voodoo. But I don’t necessarily want another opportunity to find out.