Scene: A cozy kitchen in Leipzig, Germany. It’s a rainy Saturday morning. Anna and Lena are sipping coffee, sitting at a wooden table.
Lena: (knocks on the table three times)
Well, I hope my train tomorrow won’t be delayed. The forecast looks a bit iffy.
Anna: (raises an eyebrow)
You just knocked on the table again, didn’t you?
Lena: Of course! You never joke about trains or the weather without knocking. Otherwise, you tempt fate. Everyone knows that.
Anna: I swear you’ve single-handedly given this table a complex.
Lena: (laughs)
Better a complex than a curse! Seriously though, knocking on wood works. I do it before exams, interviews, flights — and I’ve had pretty decent luck.
Anna: Correlation doesn’t equal causation, Lena. Maybe you passed that exam because you studied for weeks, not because you thumped a tree-derived surface.
Lena: But what about the time I didn’t knock before my driving test? I failed! I was so nervous I forgot, and bam — parallel parking disaster. Coincidence? I think not.
Anna: Hmm. Or maybe nerves caused the bad parking, not a lack of table-tapping magic.
Lena: But why do so many cultures have this tradition then? Germans, Americans, even the Turks! Knocking on wood spans the globe. It’s got to mean something.
Anna: True, it is widespread — but think about it. Just because an idea is old or common doesn’t make it correct. People once believed sneezes expelled demons too.
Lena: (smirking)
Better out than in, right?
Anna: (chuckles)
Touché. But let me give you an example. Remember my bike accident last year?
Lena: Yes! You broke your wrist. Terrible luck.
Anna: Right. But I knocked on the table that morning — twice, actually. Didn’t help much, did it?
Lena: Maybe the table wasn’t real wood.
Anna: (laughs)
Ah yes, the old “particle board doesn’t count” loophole.
Lena: Look, it’s not just about wood. It’s a way of connecting to fate, or warding off jinxes. It brings comfort. That counts for something.
Anna: Now that I can respect. If knocking calms your mind, that’s valid. But it’s a psychological habit — like a stress ball. Not supernatural insurance.
Lena: So you’re saying it’s all in my head?
Anna: I’m saying your brain is powerful. Studies show rituals do help people feel in control. Even if they don’t affect the universe, they affect you. That’s real.
Lena: So science agrees with me?
Anna: It agrees that rituals can reduce anxiety. Not that the universe is listening for table knocks to cancel bad luck.
Lena: Fine, you win the logic round. But if my train arrives on time tomorrow, I will be knocking on your lab bench next week.
Anna: Just don’t spill chemicals on it. But hey — deal. And if it’s late?
Lena: I’ll blame Deutsche Bahn. Obviously.
Anna: Smart. That’s a tradition I can get behind.
[They both laugh, clinking their coffee mugs — porcelain, not wood.]

Tell Us What You Think