there was this bar in my college town with a front window counter and chairs. An old practical joke was to expoxy a quarter to the cement in front of the bar and then sit and watch and laugh at passersby who would attempt to pick up the quarter from the sidewalk. Good times.

I like the idea of superstition/fatality/magic. I don't believe in it because I know 90 per cent of the time I am consciously or unconconsciously instigating my own destiny, yet the leftovers of my, albeit atheist, soul will conspire to surprise me when I feel low.