A Friday the 13th story from my personal (non L.P.) blog.
Years ago in a galaxy far, far away....
I hadn't been up very long, so I was sitting there picking at my "supper" my new bride had prepared for me. When you work the night shift (morning tour) on drilling rigs, your day gets turned around and eating spaghetti for "breakfast" is the norm, but still hard to get used to.
Her cooking took even more getting used to.
My wife (now ex) was reading the paper while I sat there watching the clock on the wall tick off the minutes before my ride came to pick me up. All of a sudden, she exclaimed:
"Oh gosh, your horoscope!"
"What about it?" I asked without much interest, never having been enthused about that sort of thing.
(it always struck me as funny that 100 million Chinese folks were gonna have the exact same sort of day that I was)
"Listen to this!" she went on. "It says 'Beware of working around dangerous machinery' !!!"
I sat there, not saying a thing. I was new to this married business and had made several bad mistakes already, one being that there's no good answers to questions such as "Does this make me look fat?"
("Sort of" isn't one of those good answers, lemme tell ya.)
"And it's Friday the 13th, too!" she exclaimed in fright.
I'm seldom in a good mood after waking up, but especially not so much after having such a heavy breakfast at nine o'clock at night and definitely not after trying to sleep during the day in a neighborhood full of kids.
What the heck, I thought. I'll torture her a little bit, just like she did me earlier in the afternoon while running the vacuum.
"Y'know, my rig's number is 13." I informed her.
She sat there, looking at me in horror. I went on.
"We're drilling to 13,000 feet, we're 13 miles out on the river road, there's 13 cattle guards between the highway and the rig."
Her mouth was gaped open, her worst fears realized.
"There's also 13 guys on the rig, come to think of it, four guys per crew plus the tool pusher."
For good measure, I went on, "Know what well we're drilling? It's the Flowers #13!" I tried to think of other 13's just to freak her out some more, but that was it.
She sat there for a minute and declared "Well, you'll just have to twist off tonight." using the oil field term for not showing up for work. She was catching on to being a roughneck's wife, for sure.
"I'd better not do that." I told her. "We need the money. " The subject of money was good for getting her to shut up or to talk, whichever one it was I needed her to do at that particular moment. I WAS catching on to this married stuff, I thought.
At the same time, my boss showed up, announcing his arrival with a blast of his car horn. As I started out the door I stopped and said:
"One good thing..." I went on. "If I get killed, you'll probably get a check for $13,000 bucks from the insurance company, I think that's the death benefit."
That wasn't the right thing to say. Maybe I DIDN'T know much about married life. She started to cry. Another impatient honk came from the idling car outside; I glanced at the clock and saw he was late in picking me up. Another minute won't hurt, I thought, and turned to her and with a hug and a quick smooch on the cheek I asked her:
"That's TODAY'S horoscope, right?" She sniffed and nodded her head.
"Think about it..." I said. "Today is nearly over,so my shift will be on the 14th!"
"I've slept THROUGH Friday the 13th!" I assured her.
Immediate relief showed in her eyes as she started to hand me my lunchbox, but once again I showed I was a novice at marriage. With an evil grin on my face I said:
"You'll still get the money if I get killed, though."
I DID have some bad luck that day, that Friday the 13th.
It's always bad luck to get hit in the head by a flying lunchbox.