Being pooped on by a bird is good luck

Scene: A park bench in London. A bird has just flown away after dropping something unwelcome on one of them.

Sam (superstitious):
Oh, brilliant! That’s good luck, that is. Bird poop from the sky—means fortune’s on the way!

Alex (rational):
Laughing Mate, you’ve just been dive-bombed by a pigeon. How exactly is that “good luck”?

Sam:
It’s an old tradition. Loads of people believe it. Think about it—what are the chances? Out of the whole sky, one bird picks you. That’s got to mean something special.

Alex:
Yeah, it means you were standing in the wrong place at the wrong time! It’s probability, not destiny. Birds poop… a lot. If you hang around where pigeons flock, it’s more statistics than magic.

Sam:
But you can’t deny people tell stories about it. My cousin got pooped on before a job interview, and the next day he got hired.

Alex:
Correlation, not causation. Maybe your cousin was already qualified and nailed the interview. The bird just… decorated him along the way.

Sam:
Alright, Mr. Science. But why would so many cultures say it’s lucky? Russians believe it, Italians too. They can’t all be wrong.

Alex:
They probably said it just to cheer people up. Imagine walking to work, your new suit ruined, everyone laughing at you. It’s kinder to say, “Oh, don’t worry, it’s good luck!” than, “Wow, you smell awful.”

Sam:
Chuckles Fair point. But still… I like the idea of luck hidden in something messy. Makes life feel less cruel, you know?

Alex:
I get that. It’s like finding silver linings. But I’d rather look for luck in, say, finding a tenner on the street than scrubbing pigeon droppings out of my hair.

Sam:
You’re so boring. I bet if a seagull hit you right now, you’d call it “data” instead of destiny.

Alex:
Exactly. Data proving I need to buy an umbrella. For bird poop.

Sam:
Laughing You’d probably start a spreadsheet: “Occurrences of Avian Droppings vs. Life Events.”

Alex:
And I guarantee the only strong correlation would be between bird poop and me needing a shower.

Sam:
Well, I’m still keeping my hopes up. Who knows—maybe today’s the day I win the lottery.

Alex:
Fine. If you win, I’ll happily eat my words. But until then, I’ll stick to dodging pigeons.