“85” Arts Every Damn Day…
The number 85 was like a permanent arts in my life every single day, and has always had special significance to me. No matter where I go in life, that number keeps popping up. Maybe it’s a case of just seeing it because you’re looking for it – confirmation bias. Or maybe it’s just a number that comes into play in my life in significant ways. I’m not really sure and I don’t know! It all basically starts with the fact that I was born in 1985, and that’s something that cannot be denied. There’s even legal proof when you take into account the fact that my birth certificate prominently displays the year and date, so it has to be true.
I’m a particularly bad person for this to happen to, because I don’t believe in significance, or the arts of numerology, or astrology or anything like that. I am kind of starting to think that I am cursed. Maybe I’m not, but I have had some weird things happen to me involving the number 85.
I’ve never believed it, but I’ve had girlfriends that like to talk about astrology arts and look it up in magazines and comics, and talk about how they’re Virgo or they’re Pisces or Leo or Scorpio and what means and all that. But mostly if I had to pick a point of view that I hold about the universe, I would say that events come into play with each other and affect each other, but do not think that there is a higher design.
That being said, this is not a story about the holy significance of a number to a person and what it means and all that! This is just the annoyance and divulgence of a series of events that involve the number 85 for me. I do not particularly want this number in my life and I wish these stories had never happened, but that’s life, I guess. Here are some events that happened involving this number so far. As a famous singer once crooned, the best is (most likely) yet to come.
I was visiting my friend out in Los Angeles – my buddy Jeff. The only trouble was, I live in Memphis. So I took a bus to see him because it beats a plane or a train and the weather in LA was beautiful (according to Jeff). I had an instinct that I should rent a car to go see him, but that seemed like a lot of trouble when I could just sit back and relax and be bussed to the West Coast like a piece of luggage. So I ignored it and bought a ticket for the bus.
I don’t know if the fun parts started when the baby was crying in the back of the bus, or when the old woman napping behind me woke up and started coughing. No problem, I thought to myself. This is definitely the worst it can get. But I was wrong. Three hours in the bus broke down. I mean fully. We were all standing by the side of the road while the bus sat emitting heat and doing nothing, just like in the movies. 40 adults stranded in what was essentially the middle of nowhere, and no one had brought much water or snacks. Why would they? It’s not like Bus 85 was expected to break down.
Four hours later and amidst a rampant increase in complaining from the other passengers, the bus was finally up and running. Just kidding. The company had to call cabs to come and get us and then we had to be transported to the nearest bus station for that company to get our free vouchers to continue to journey to California (on a different bus, though). I got there – just no thanks to bus 85.
The 85 Cent Vending Machine
I’ve never had a problem with vending machines in any other denomination, but when it comes to the vending machine, 85 is my unlucky number. 75 cents works out fine. A dollar is okay. I’ve put 85 cents into a machine five different times and it always sticks on my food. Doritos, soda, water, chocolate bars, even my books and comics, every single time I walk by types of arts or a picture, it doesn’t matter. I’ve just stopped trying.
The 85 Cat
This isn’t as bad, but I nearly ran over a cat. Luckily, I slammed to a stop and was able to avoid it. Then I stopped and looked at the mailbox. It was house 85. Literally.
The 85 Highschool Test Curse
This is not exactly accurate, but I like to use it anyway. In highschool, I rarely got a test over 85. This could have been because of the curse, but it also could have been due to the fact that I rarely studied. Who can know?