Speaking to strangers in bars is like spinning a big roulette wheel, You never know where it will land but as the wheel spins and you imagine infinite possibilities, it's exciting to think you are having a unique interaction that up until this moment had not existed. Sometimes you meet someone interesting or someone that's interested in you. Or else the other thing happens. In a mood to be in a bar after a long week I had a nice conversation at the first place I went to with the owner then tumbled into a vortex of numerology at the second. The lady seemed nice enough at first, chatting about her kids and stuff, then the subject of birthdays came up and there was no turning back. She was typing digits into her phone and talking about past lives and how my wife had been my mother, my son, and my best friend in previous incarnations. She batted away my questions and would not be swayed from her discourse - all of it delivered with the confidence of a mad woman and an eerie smile. Apparently my number was "3", which was important and a good thing. The rest of it was a blur. I said my polite goodbye and wondered how someone becomes like that. Is it a way to cope with the feeling of powerlessness as we drift through the universe unprotected? I had begun to forget about her when I suddenly remembered something that had happened on my drive the next day. In a neighborhood I had never been on a street I ended up on by pure chance I recalled the odd sight at a yard sale by the side of the road that caught my eye. There in amid all the typical household debris was a giant number "3".