My luck in games of chance is absolute zero. Once in my early 20s I tried my hand at blackjack. After about 20 minutes the lady dealer said, “Mister, you have the worst luck of anybody I’ve ever seen. You shouldn’t gamble.” I’ve pretty much adhered to that advice ever since.
Also when it comes to hunting I bear a curse. That curse can range from prairie dogs to African game. Fellows have invited me to hunt the former with them saying, “The ground will appear alive there are so many of them running about.” Then I’ve sat in the hot sun for hours firing perhaps a half-dozen or so rounds.
Africa is famous for its plentitude of game. My professional hunters told me usually on the first day or two they take their clients after warthog or impala in order to get them over their jitters. In 14 days we saw precisely one warthog, running away for all he was worth. Then we hunted for several days just for an impala buck without getting a single shot. One fellow said to me, “Yeah, but I’ve been in your office/gun room and there are antlers and African mounts on the wall.” Certainly there are. Occasionally I’ve run into critters having worse luck than mine.
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