Bad luck is romantic, it’s full of soul and gave us Sylvia Plath. Good luck is a bit annoying, it’s full of chance and gave us Brad Pitt. I have no luck at bad luck, or at good luck, really. I have weird luck. Weird is a cheap word because it doesn’t really mean anything. But you usually know it when you see it, and you definitely know it when you smell it.
Weird luck is having three strangers compliment your hair in as many weeks. And two of them are developmentally disabled. And one of them was an elderly Albino woman.
Weird luck is going surfing and meeting a 400-pound man named Rob in the middle of the ocean. And he immediately decides to tell you he has cellulose disease. And that he was from Washington D.C., where he has 300-pounds of weed that he think he will get a half mil out of.
Weird is the least predictable of the lucks — and perhaps the most interesting. And definitely the most awkward.