Walking under a ladder brings bad luck

Setting:
Two friends—Raj (the superstitious one) and Kevin (the rational thinker)—are walking through downtown Chicago on their lunch break when they encounter a construction site with a ladder leaning against a building.

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Raj:
(Stopping abruptly) Whoa, hold up, Kev. Let’s go around. There’s a ladder. No way I’m walking under that thing.

Kevin:
(Chuckling) You’re serious? You’d rather cross the street in traffic than walk under a ladder?

Raj:
Dead serious. Everyone knows walking under a ladder is bad luck. Why tempt fate?

Kevin:
Raj, c’mon. That’s just an old superstition. It’s not like the ladder is haunted or something. It’s just a triangular arrangement of wood and screws.

Raj:
You mock, but I have proof. Remember when we were moving into my apartment last year? I accidentally walked under that painter’s ladder—boom, twisted my ankle the next day. Coincidence? I think not.

Kevin:
(Grinning) I also remember you trying to carry a couch up three flights of stairs with flip-flops on. Maybe that had something to do with it?

Raj:
Nope, it was the ladder. That cursed triangle of doom.

Kevin:
(Laughs) Okay, okay, but think about it logically. The belief comes from medieval times—when people thought triangles represented the Holy Trinity. So walking through one was like blasphemy. That’s the origin. It’s not like physics suddenly breaks down when you walk under a ladder.

Raj:
I don’t care if it came from the druids or ancient aliens. Every time I ignore the signs, something goes wrong. I once spilled hot coffee on myself after walking under a ladder in Brooklyn. Third-degree burns, man.

Kevin:
(Playfully skeptical) And how many times have you not walked under a ladder and still had a crappy day? I bet your printer still jammed and your ex still texted you “I miss us.”

Raj:
(Mock shudder) Don’t remind me. But still—why risk it? I also knock on wood, don’t open umbrellas indoors, and I never say “Macbeth” in a theater. Bad juju.

Kevin:
You’re like a walking superstition encyclopedia. Do you carry a rabbit’s foot too?

Raj:
Only on job interview days.

Kevin:
(Laughs) Raj, there’s a term for this—it’s called confirmation bias. Your brain notices the times things go wrong after a superstition, but it totally ignores the dozens of times nothing happened.

Raj:
So you’re saying I’m imagining it?

Kevin:
Not imagining—just selectively remembering. I mean, I’ve walked under ladders plenty of times. Nothing bad ever happened… unless you count watching Cats on Broadway.

Raj:
That is bad luck.

Kevin:
Fair. But seriously, you’re giving your brain patterns to cling to. The world’s chaotic enough without blaming construction tools for our bad days.

Raj:
But see, for me, these rituals give me a sense of control. Like, when I knock on wood or avoid a ladder, I feel like I’m doing my part to stay ahead of fate.

Kevin:
That’s totally valid. I get the comfort aspect. Just promise me you’ll admit it’s about comfort, not causality.

Raj:
Hmm. Maybe. But if you trip and fall today after walking under that ladder, I’m totally saying “I told you so.”

Kevin:
Deal. And if I don’t, you owe me a rabbit’s foot keychain.

Raj:
Make it a four-leaf clover air freshener and we’ve got a deal.

(They laugh and keep walking—around the ladder, just in case.)