A Surprise Greeting

It all started in a cafe, like most stories do. I was on my daily scout. This is where I scout out humans who, in my righteous judgement, are worthy of the day’s dose of luck. I figured that coffee places in the morning are the best places to start. You can tell who’s having a bad day right away. So anyway, I picked my “victim” of the day. A young woman was being yelled at through her cell phone. I assumed it was her boss. Her hair was a mess. Her blazer was wrinkled while her skirt was nicely pressed. Her thick glasses were falling off her face as she struggled to hand her money over to the barista. “Scary,” I thought. It was like looking into a mirror. I decided to help this poor girl. Just a little push in the right direction. I didn’t want to do anything too fancy.

I followed her as she rushed to her workplace. She never spilled her coffee. She didn’t miss her train. It was a quiet ride. There were no crying babies and no obnoxious laughs. I thought a relaxing commute would suffice. Her cell phone rings. It’s her boss again. He’s still yelling. I thought to myself, “This boss guy is even getting on my nerves.” I followed her all the way to her office.

I just wanted to get this over with. I eventually found the office of the “big boss.” I found him playing on a mini golf set while yelling at another poor soul on the other end of his phone. I decided to mess with his computer a little bit while he was distracted trying to place the tiny white ball into the hole. I never understood the joy in playing golf. It’s a strange sport. Let’s get back to the computer. I decided to throw out some embarrassing emails throughout the company. It’s nothing too destructive. It’s just enough to throw off his ego. I then took out his wallet, take out a few bills, and put them into this poor girl’s purse. A little more money never hurt anyone.

I decide that I’ve done enough for the day and I head out of the offices. I’m waiting for the elevator and another worker stands next to me. I think nothing of it, he’s just another worker. The elevator doors open and we both walk in. As the doors close, I hear, “Well, that was quite nice of you.”

Hear No Luck, See No Luck

This is the most common depiction of me. This is so far off of what I look like. It’s pretty embarrassing. I don’t look as sexy as that picture. Actually, I don’t think I look sexy at all. Unless messy hair, thick glasses, and horrible skin is considered sexy, then feel free to call me the sexiest girl around. But, I doubt that’s the case. 






I look more like this picture on the right. Yes, glasses included. (I tried to draw myself as accurately as possible, how did I do?) I’m a bit too busy to be a high maintenance girl. It’s not like my appearance matters anyway. I’m kind of… invisible. Well, invisible to human eyes anyway. So in addition to not being thanked, I’m not even acknowledged. For a while I didn’t even care about this job. It gets lonely when no one can hear nor see you. That was how I felt until a couple years ago...

Lil' Lady Luck

I like to help people. Well, sometimes I like to help people. Helping people around the world is a hard and difficult job. Actually, this job is more tiring than difficult. That dollar you found on the ground didn’t appear out of nowhere. Those winning lottery numbers aren’t random. You didn’t run into your high school sweetheart at random either. It takes planning. Sometimes it takes me several years to plan and sometimes it takes me an hour. My point it that, honestly, I don’t get much credit for it. A lot of people say that it’s their good luck at work, but very few people say that their luck is due to lil’ old “Lady Luck.” Well, that’s me (and I am NOT old.)

Yes. Here I am, Lady Luck. I don’t quite like that name though. I’m not much of a lady. I’m more like a jerk. You hear people complain about their bad luck more often than you hear them praise their good luck. That really puts me off. If people are going to be jerks, then I’ll be a jerk too! Well, at least I’ll try to...