Any Given Tuesday
Looking out of the dusty underground window of Apartment B3, Fern sighed deeply. "Rinse and repeat," he said to himself. "Day in day out".
If the weather was bad enough he might not have had to go to work today, but it was bleakly clear outside. You can't very well build a stone path during a wet muddy snow storm. Now he could add weather forecasters to the long list of people on his "hit" list.
There were no signs of the snow, sleet, or even meatballs they had joked about last night. It seemed like this Tuesday, much like hundreds of Tuesdays before it, was going to suck. Every time he got his hopes for a decent day were crushed he didn't need to check his calendar to know it must be a Tuesday.
He pulled out his line numbered diary went to the 13th page and scribbled "Weather forecasters" after "credit card offer inventors" and "thin grocery bag manufacturers".
Then, Fern scourged through his bag of fresh laundry and choked on the chemical scent. He pulled on the green stained blue jeans with a sigh and tossed on the off-white t shirt.
Last night he had walked a good mile to the laundromat where he watched some local news and weather. But it seemed that despite putting in a whole pack of "ultra mega high concentrated" laundry detergent for $7, the stubborn grass stains were not going anywhere. He considered adding "detergent chemists" to the list but he realized he added that one aged ago.
He planned on buying some newer jeans as soon as he got his raise, since he "already got it but it would kick in soon" for the past 3 months. Somehow every time he brought it up, his boss changed the subject. He was also supposed to be the foreman by now, but he was still "assistant foreman" even though he did most of the talking to the customers. He was definitely going to quit or at least get them to match a "competing offer".
Looking back at the last year or so since the incident, pretty much everything had gone sideways. Now that he thought about it, every betrayal seemed coincidentally on Tuesday. He considered bunkering up and skipping today using his 4th sick day for the year, but no point in hiding. Tuesday was gonna come back and get him in 7 short days anyway. He added "Tuesday" to the hit list.
He lost his parents in a car accident on Tuesday about a year ago. He forgot his phone at work on a Tuesday a few months later. Looking back it was also a Tuesday, when he had to use his girlfriend's phone to order food when he saw the notification from "Trent coffee shop" saying something like "I'll see you soon baby". Well that was the same Tuesday, but still.
Most people dreaded Mondays, but Tuesdays… that's where bad luck would rain down, along with disgustingly clear weather.
Fern didn't consider himself superstitious. Sure, he would avoid walking under ladders, black cats and any buildings which had 13 or more floors, but that's just smart. He rubbed his rabbit foot keychain, prayed to 4 different deities, and rubbed his crossed fingers along the horseshoe above his front door. Then he shook his head. "Pfft. I'm not even superstitious like that." He lied to himself as he walked out his apartment door.
He didn't even bother checking if the elevator worked since he was told a few weeks ago, "we have someone coming to fix that next Tuesday" and obviously no progress was made. Besides it was only 1 floor up. The truth was he only wanted to go on the elevator in case he ran into her again. Wednesday was a girl from the highfalutin 4th floor, and she was nothing like god-accursed Tuesdays.
He caressed his rabbit's foot once for each step, and then on the 13th step. He suddenly heard a noise much like a cabbage cleaved apart in one blow or perhaps a Guillotine dropping on Trent coffee shop's neck?
* KAH-CHING *
Then Fern heard a strange robotic voice:
* You have unlocked the "luck" stat. Sneeze "Status" to see your current information.
* Luck + 1.
Sneeze status? I guess I can try to fake a sneeze while saying status?
Achoo-ooo-status-ooo…
Nope.
Okay I can force a sneeze.
Expanding his nostrils to the fullest, Fern looked for something to tickle his nose with. It just so happened he had the perfect tickler at hand. He lodged the rabbit's foot as deep as possible into his nose, but it was a bit too thick. Rubbing it around his nose he got out a little twitch, but that's not enough. He tried to plug the foot deeper into his nose. His nose was wiggling a bit now.
Ah ah. Ah ah f it. I'll be late to work. I'm sure I'll find something better to shove up my nose.
Fern stomped further up the stairs and slammed his shoulder into the lobby door to get past it. Normally, he'd take his time and look around for Wednesday, but he didn't want to be late. He tried to go through the rotary door in the building but needless to say it was Tuesday and it was jammed. So he went out the side door where the annoying doorman opened it as though he couldn't do it himself.
The only reason why he was able to afford the apartment was due to a subsidy for apartment buildings that provide "low income housing". Apartment buildings would build dozens of $20k/mo apartments and throw in a few "low income option" in the basement with only a mild smell of trash and sewage to pay way less taxes.
Trudging through the puddles and potholes he never looked back and walked as fast as he could toward work and tried to imagine what "luck" did for him, what "status" was about, and how his whole life he never heard somebody sneezing status.
Trailing behind him until he turned left down an alley, Wednesday shook her head and turned right, cursing her high heels.
Fern was surprised and relieved when he made it all the way to the bus stop without passing a single mugger, low life or gang member. But as soon as he got on the bus, he knew it couldn't last.
The first 3 rows were occupied by distinctly dressed Pickers, luckily they were engaged in conversation so they didn't seem to notice him. Then again they liked to pickpocket people so they were relatively subtle. Keeping as alert as possible, Fern picked the seat right in front of the middle door for a quick escape. One benefit to having a farmer's tan and stained clothes was it lowered your risk of being mugged.
But his luck didn't last long, as before he took out his phone to check the weather he already saw he was being crowded.
"Hey mate, how's about you join us for a little get together we're having. Maybe you'll be able to buy some new pants, eh? If you work with Lil We, you're like family!" Exclaimed a massive Picker with what looked like green women's sunglasses—they were too small for his face.
"Nah thanks though! I've always loved green," mumbled Fern while he tried not to laugh at the man's name. He looked at his pants and tried to scratch off the permanent grass smudges.
"What's that? Speak up! did you just make fun of my sunglasses?"
"What no no!"
"I just saw you laughing and then you said something about Green. Why don't you ask Robson here how much I appreciated his joke about my sunglasses. Thing is you don't know me! You don't know Lil We!" He said as he pointed at one of the Pickers with a fresh black eye.
Seeing that things weren't looking good, Fern tried to subtly pull the Stop the bus cable.
"You think this my glasses are funny! You know Robson's part of my gang, we grew up together, I've eaten his mom's tacos. He knows me, so I let his comment go. But I didn't take any shit from him and I'm not going to be as friendly to you Spic. You don't know me, you don't know who I am, you don't know Lil' We and you try to laugh at my style?"
Fern could tell things were getting serious but he couldn't help laughing about Lil We munching on his friend's mom's taco. "No not at all. The shades look great!" Fern lied and ignored the racial slur. Lil We now had steam coming out of his ears and a red face. Fern couldn't wait for the next stop he knew it was soon. Please be soon, he thought. He raised his knees and sat in a curled up position like a frog or a baby.
The next stop was so close. But it was way too late, as Lil' We pulled out his metal belt and handed it to Robson.
"Robson why don't you show him what happens to people who try to disrespect the Pickers."
*Situational quest activated: survive and serve revenge on the Pickers.*
"Fucking Tuesdays!" Fern yelled and started jumping over the middle exit divider. Robson managed to whip his left shoulder and back with the metal belt and as Fern tumbled down the stairs and reached the door. They finally reached the stop and luckily nobody was waiting to get on. Fern jumped out of the door and ran, while Robson and Lil We were a bit stunned. They started running down the stairs and yelled "stop", but the bus driver either played dumb or it was too late because he kept driving.
"Oh, sorry! You can get off at the next stop! There was just some guy honking us because I stopped suddenly so I was trying to make it quick."
The Pickers hesitated between beating up the bus driver in front of witnesses and the cameras installed on buses and chasing after the Jeans guy. Until they decided, "Whatever man just let me out!"
Unfortunately, the bus route required a left turn and the bus already in the left turning lane, could not legally let them out in the middle of an intersection with incoming traffic.
The driver looked up at the ceiling praying for the red arrow to change. "Okay! I'll let you out as soon as we turn left here! Alright boys?"
"He's getting away!" Yelled Robson who was infuriated that Jeans guy merely got a few bruises while he got a black eye for the same crime.