Have I ever told you why 13 is my lucky number
— why on my every baseball jersey I wore 13, even today on my adult league? I grew-up at number 13 on my block. That worked out well for me. I didn’t die. Grown-up, double check.
Then in April of ’18, I was pedestrian struck. On a Friday. In April. Friday the 13th of April. Also didn’t die. I jumped. Like flickin’ Batman, I jumped and rolled on that distracted bastard’s hood. Hurt like all-get-up, though. That distracted bastard. But, I didn’t die. Lucky.
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