The Lucky Shirt

Rating: PG for language.


“That shirt is SO ugly,” Ricky said as Nick walked out of his dressing room.
“What? Are you serious? I love this shirt!” Nick looked down at his orange polo shirt and smoothed it out with his hands.
“Yeah, but it’s ORANGE. Nothing rhymes with it for a reason.”
“Well, I don’t care what you think of it, it’s a good shirt, and I like it. And you know what else?” Nick said poking Ricky in the chest. “it’s my new lucky shirt too.” Ricky looked at him in disbelief.
“You can’t just decide that a shirt is lucky! It has to fall into your hands by fate. Like, karma or something. I don’t know, one of my old boho girlfriends told me about it.”
“You mean Sharon?”
“No, Moon River.”
“Oh right, I shoulda known. Plus, Sharon wasn’t boho, she was just plain ho.”
“Hey! Don’t say that about her!” Ricky said and went to punch Nick in the arm. Nick moved just the right amount back that Ricky missed and hit the incoming Peanut in the stomach.
“Hey man! What did I ever do to you?” he said rubbing his abdomen.
“Sorry, that was intended for Nick.” Ricky said patting Peanut on the shoulder.
“Hey, maybe this is a lucky shirt!” Nick said looking down at it.
“I said you can’t just deem a shirt lucky, it has to just happen.” Ricky said throwing his hands in the air.
“You know what, let’s make a bet. We’ll go out and test my luck. If I get lucky all day, then you have to buy me lunch tomorrow. If it’s unlucky, or nothing amazing happens, then I will throw out the shirt and buy you lunch.” Ricky nodded and they went out for the day, leaving poor Peanut in the hallway holding his stomach.
“You punch too hard Ricky!” he shouted before walking across the hall back into his dressing room.

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“Ok, test number one, scratch ticket.” Ricky said and they walked up to a little news stand on the street. “One cherry bomb, and one Bingo please,” he said and the man handed over two tickets. Ricky paid and Nick took a coin from his pocket. The two of them went to the side of the stand as Nick scratched off the appropriate squares. Not only did he win on both of them, but it was a large win. The cherry bomb yielded £50 and the Bingo paid off £100.
“See? This is my lucky shirt!” he said and pulled the fabric over his chest bone up to his face and kissed it.
“Well, this is a game of chance! Anyone could win!” Ricky said folding his arms.
“Oh come on, you can have £25 if you really want, since you bought them.”
“Oh, you don’t have to…well, ok if you insist,” he said and took the tickets up to the man. They collected their money and went on in search of their next test.

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“Two chili dogs,” Nick said to the man in the street cart. They stopped to get something to eat; looking for luck was a tiring task.
“There you go,” the man said and Nick paid with his new winnings.
“Thanks squire,” Nick said.
“Oh, be careful. It’s a fresh batch and could easily slop all over you,” the man said and, right on cue, Ricky’s chili dog dribbled out of its bun all over his shoe and lower pant leg.
“Damn!” he said and reached for the napkins. Nick bent down to help clean him off. When he stood back up, he noticed that not a drop of his chili dog had left its confinement.
“Wouldja look at that, not a drop,” Nick said and grinned.
“That’s lucky,” said the man at the cart.
“Yes, I’ve noticed that I’ve been quite lucky today. I think it could be my lucky shirt,” Nick said and looked right at Ricky.
“Well, that sure is some kind of shirt,” the cart man said and gave it a weird look. Nick gave him an equally weird look and they continued walking.

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“Hey, look a £5 note! It must be my lu–”
“Don’t even say it…” Ricky commanded Nick as he bent down to pick up the stray bill. Nick could only smile in response.

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“I’m telling you, this shirt is lucky,” Nick said as they were walking down a side street.
“YOU CANT JUST DEEM A SHIRT LUCKY!!!” Ricky exclaimed and threw his hands in the air.
“Hey, if it’s bugging you that much then let’s just go back and forget all about it.”
“No, really, it’s ok. I’m sorry, I just got a little carried awa –” Ricky was cut off by a slamming sound behind them. They turned around to see a TV laying in ruins on the ground, followed shortly by a VCR. They looked up to a third-story window to find a woman yelling frantically and throwing things out the window.
“I hate you so much!” she said and threw out a pile of clothes. A pair of boxers landed on Ricky’s head and he quickly pulled them off.
“Oh dear, I’m SO sorry!” she yelled down to them. “I didn’t think anyone would be walking by! You didn’t get hit with anything did you?” she asked.
“No, luckily not.” Ricky said.
“I wasn’t talking to you, I was asking your cute friend.” Nick blushed.
“Oh, yeah I’m fine,” he said and scratched his head shyly.
“Good.” She waved him the “call me” sign and went back inside.
“That damn shirt…” Ricky started to say.
“Totally saved your ass.” Nick finished and they laughed.
“Come on, let’s go back,” Ricky said as they headed back down the street.
“Hey Ricky?”
“Yeah Nick?”
“There was a £20 note in one of those jeans.”
“Did you take it?”
“Do Australians snog sheep?”
“Damn shirt…”

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“Mmm, this soup is DELICIOUS!” Nick said digging into a bowl of clam chowder. “And it tastes even better when it’s free.” He smiled across the table at Ricky.
“Hahaha, you are soooo funny.”
“Hey, you admitted that it was a lucky shirt, which means that you lost the bet and bought us lunch.” He smiled and took another bite of soup. “Hey, you know, we could settle this like Seinfeld with me saying that a soup doesn’t really count as a meal, and we’ll have to do this all over again.” They laughed.
“You wouldn’t do that though, would you?”
“No, I wouldn’t. it would be funny though.”
“Yeah it would. Well, I guess this only leaves me with one question for you.”
“Shoot.”
“Do you feel lucky? Punk?” Nick laughed and went for another bite. However, the spoonful of soup didn’t quite reach his mouth. Instead, it landed with a deafening “plop” into his lap.
“I guess that would be a no,” Nick said and wiped the soup off his lap.