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I have always been the type of person who enjoys watching people, from their interactions with each other to the way they portray themselves. In a way, it helps me understand myself and the kind of masks I wear for different people. There are not many people who know all that much about me, and this topic probably least of all.
I have always had a superstitious nature, but I have always kept it in control and never succumbed to the general mass hysteria of certain situations.
For instance, in my sport playing days - when I actually used to play basketball for a team and not once every three months socially - I used to book my shirt number way in advance. It was funny, we all did it in fact, but made up the excuse of copying our favourite, far more professional, and incidentally African American player's number.
I always felt sorry for the one chap in our team who got stuck with number fourteen, as the only famous player he could think of with that number was short, white and had a history of sniffing furniture polish out of season.
Nevertheless we each had our number. I used to go as far as always making a point of defending the player with the same number from the opposing team to make sure he didn't take my good luck away. I guess it comes down to a psychological thing which I will never understand, but I always seemed to play better when I managed to have my own number on my back.
It doesn't stop there either. Often I will get to work and be slightly disappointed when a certain number parking is taken in the morning - it sounds crazy, I know, but I'm not all that normal.
Now the reason why I started thinking about this today is the sheer number of chain letters I have been receiving. They always play on basic human emotions and needs, and almost always tell the heart wrenching story of how Sally (I haven't used her real name of course) didn't send this mail to 10 of her friends and later that day caught her husband cheating on her with her best friend and sister. They have to, of course, also add the story of Jimmy, who after sending the mail to 15 of his friends and colleagues later received a phone call from the girl he had been stalking for three years who declared her undying love there and then and offered to leave her husband for him the very next day.
I have to send some of these out, just because they are so stupid and usually have a funny story (ok, I'm just a little worried sometimes).
And I agree, I am somewhat obsessive compulsive and have to always use the right-most urinal at work (don't ask), but there are definitely limits, and believing that Bill Gates is going to personally deliver your new cell phone after you have sent out an e-mail four hundred times. You have to send it at least five hundred times, otherwise they use DHL.
Anyways, I have sent this story today out to all my friends. One of them, bless his soul, sent out the link to twenty (now thats a lot) friends, and he immediately received a raise and a promotion to Director of his company. All of my other friends either had car accidents during their lunchbreak or were fired on the spot for wasting company resources. Mail me for proof, but are you sure you want to take the risk?
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