Lara: [walking into the café] Hey, you’re early! Wow, that’s rare. Usually you’re “on the way” for 30 minutes.
Miguel: I know, I know. But don’t jinx it! [quickly knocks on the wooden table] Knock on wood!
Lara: laughs See? That’s exactly what I mean. Why do you still do that?
Miguel: Because it works! Every time someone says something tempting fate—like “traffic might be light today”—you knock on wood to cancel the bad luck. That’s how you keep the universe from messing with you.
Lara: Or… maybe traffic is just traffic, and the universe has better things to do than target your commute?
Miguel: Oh please. Remember last week? I said, “I think the rain’s done for the day,” but I forgot to knock on wood. Ten minutes later—boom! Downpour. Streets flooded. I got soaked. Coincidence? I think not.
Lara: Miguel, it’s December. It rains every ten minutes. That’s not superstition, that’s weather patterns.
Miguel: Still! I feel safer saying things when I knock on wood. It’s like… my tiny shield against bad vibes.
Lara: You don’t need a wooden shield. You need an umbrella.
Miguel: I bring one! But it still feels risky. Knocking on wood just makes me feel like I didn’t invite bad luck.
Lara: I get that it feels comforting. Rituals do that. But scientifically, there’s no mechanism—zero, nada—that links tapping wood to changing future events. No divine alarm goes off like, “Alert! Miguel is preventing misfortune by knocking on a table!”
Miguel: laughs Maybe there is! Maybe the universe has, like, customer service agents. “Sir, someone invoked the knock-on-wood protocol, please hold the typhoon.”
Lara: If the universe has customer service, they’re definitely on break. Have you seen the state of things?
Miguel: Okay fine, maybe there’s no science behind it. But it’s harmless. It makes me more careful with what I say. And sometimes it really feels like the luck changes.
Lara: That’s because of selective memory. Remember the times it didn’t work? Like when you knocked on wood three times before saying, “I haven’t lost my wallet this year,” and then you left it in the jeepney anyway?
Miguel: Hey! I got it back though.
Lara: Because the driver was honest, not because you slapped a tree trunk.
Miguel: Wooden table! Not tree trunk. I’m not a forest ranger.
Lara: laughs My point still stands.
Miguel: Look, I know it’s not proven. But it helps me feel less anxious. It’s like a habit passed down from my lola. She’d always say, “If you don’t knock on wood, the spirits will think you’re too confident.” I guess it stuck.
Lara: Ahh, see, that makes sense. Traditions from family stick around because they’re comforting, not because they’re accurate.
Miguel: True. And you? No superstition at all? Not even a tiny one hiding somewhere?
Lara: Nope. I rely on logic and evidence.
Miguel: Really? Then explain why you refuse to say “The MRT is fast today” even when it is.
Lara: …Because every time I say it, it suddenly breaks down.
Miguel: leans back triumphantly AHA! And what do you do right after saying it?
Lara: I… avoid saying it again.
Miguel: But you could knock on wood! Problem solved!
Lara: Miguel, no amount of knocking can fix the MRT.
Miguel: laughing Fair point. Even the universe can’t fix that.
Lara: Look, keep the knocking if it comforts you. Just don’t rely on it to control the world. You control your actions, not luck.
Miguel: Deal. I’ll knock less. Maybe.
Lara: Or at least knock softly. That table is older than us.
Miguel: Fine, fine. But—just to be safe—
[lightly taps the table]
There. Insurance.
Lara: You’re unbelievable.
Miguel: And lucky! Because I knocked on wood.
Science Vs Superstition 
Tell Us What You Think