Although I'm not a particularly superstitious person Friday the 13th has always sort of been interesting to me. When I was younger and traveled with my father I noticed that none of the crappy motels we stayed in had a room 13. I thought there must be something to it if even motels stayed away from the number. Later on in football I wore the number 13.
My first observation of someone being unlucky on Friday the 13th was in 3rd grade. A girl in my class named Stacy (who by the way was at my 20th high school reunion just last weekend) wore white pants. While she was carrying a jar of paint across the room to her desk she slipped and fell on a wet spot on the floor and dumped the blue pain all over her white pants. Everyone blamed Friday the 13th for the accident but I felt bad for her. (yes, sometimes I do have empathy)
I never got new clothes. If I had dumped paint on my pants at school I would've had my ass kicked at home. Her family was wealthier than mine so I'm sure it was no big deal at all.
On a side note: I've never liked Stacy and look back at the incident with the paint with a measure of happiness. I'm a jerk.