A few years ago, I taught English in Slovakia. One Friday night, I went out with the rest of the teachers for pizza and other, assuredly wacky, shenanigans.
Eventually we wound up in this weird, underground club. Not really my scene, but whatever. I went to the washroom, and while I was occupied, another guy walked in.
He said something in Slovak. I don't speak Slovak, said sorry, can't help you. Then I heard this click, like a cigarette lighter. I started laughing, and made some joke about how smoking wasn't allowed, washed my hands and left. Then we all decided to head for home.
Since I can't speak/read Slovak, I didn't follow local news, outside what my co-workers told me. Monday morning, bright and early, I found out that someone shot up that club not long after we left. Apparently his gun jammed and it took him ages to fix it in the washroom.
I think I used up every piece of luck I will ever have that night.