[Scene: A chilly Moscow morning. Misha’s car is packed for their weekend trip to Lake Baikal. Yura stands near the apartment door, coat on, backpack ready—but blocking the way.]
Misha:
Alright, car’s warmed up. Let’s hit the road before traffic builds.
Yura: (serious)
Wait! We have to sit.
Misha:
Sit? Now? On purpose?
Yura:
Yes. You know the rule—“Перед дорогой нужно посидеть на дорожку.” You always sit for a minute before a journey. It brings good luck and wards off bad omens.
Misha:
Yura… that’s not a travel tip, that’s folklore. Traffic won’t care about our omens.
Yura: (already squatting on a suitcase)
You think it’s silly, but I swear—it works. Remember when I didn’t sit before going to Sochi last year? Lost my luggage and got food poisoning.
Misha:
You also drank warm shrimp cocktail from a gas station kiosk.
Yura:
Still! The point stands. It’s not about the why, it’s about the what if.
Misha: (sighs, arms crossed)
Look, I get it. It’s comforting. But there’s no causal link between sitting for 60 seconds and avoiding salmonella or lost baggage. It’s just confirmation bias.
Yura:
Bias-shmias. Every Russian grandma knows you must sit. Even Putin probably sits.
Misha:
Putin rides shirtless on bears. I’m not sure he follows standard procedure.
Yura: (laughs)
Okay, fair. But listen—rituals have power. Even NASA lets astronauts follow personal superstitions before launch.
Misha:
True. But NASA also uses rocket science, not sofa science. Look, I’m not against tradition. I just think we should teach our kids why things happen, not scare them with invisible bad luck goblins.
Yura:
But sometimes a little irrationality makes life feel… safer. Like wearing your lucky socks on exam day. You know they don’t help, but you still wear them.
Misha:
I wore mismatched socks to my thesis defense. I failed nothing—except fashion.
Yura: (grinning)
Then you had the science and I had the luck. Perfect team.
Misha:
Alright, alright. How about a compromise? You get your good luck sit, and I get to record you doing it and label it “Exhibit A: Superstition in Action.”
Yura:
Deal! Just don’t post it unless we make it to Baikal without hitting a deer.
[Both laugh. Misha sits down briefly with Yura on the edge of a duffel bag.]
Misha:
So, does this count as scientifically controlled luck?
Yura:
Absolutely. The control is your skepticism. The variable is my destiny.
Misha:
Fine. One minute. But if we hit traffic, I’m blaming your destiny.
Yura:
If we don’t, you owe me a gas station blini.
Misha:
Deal. Let’s go—before we have to sit again.
Science Vs Superstition 
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