Lucky Bastard Read Online Free PDF

bills. Eating Lucky Charms for breakfast. I can almost hear my father laughing and telling me he knew this would happen to me.
    I’m the first to admit that this isn’t exactly the life I envisioned. Though not all poachers are like me. Some are better off, some are worse. Some don’t even make it this far. A lot of poachers succumb to the solitary nature of the lifestyle and end up taking their own lives. Although there’s not any official data, the life span of your average luck poacher is around forty years. Which means I’ve got seven more to go before I exceed expectations.
    Maybe that’s why Mom never poached luck. Because she knew the consequences of going down this path. Though things didn’t exactly come up roses for her, either. Not unless you include the ones next to her headstone.
    That’s one of the reasons I sell the luck I poach instead of keeping it and using it for myself. Out of respect for Mom. If I truly wanted to respect her ideals, I wouldn’t use my gift at all. But I can’t ignore what I am. It’s in my blood.
    But if I’m going to be honest, the main reason I sell the luck I steal is because using it to try to improve your own good fortune can create problems. The addictive propertiesof good luck aside, you win the lottery or become a celebrity or make the national news and suddenly you’re drawing attention to yourself, doing interviews and having to report your income on a tax return. The last thing I want is to have the IRS or the general public involved in my life. Poachers have to live under the radar to avoid complications. But just because you take precautions doesn’t mean you can avoid the consequences.
    Every decision you make has risks and repercussions. Some more so than others. It just so happens, most of my decisions tend to be of the more-so variety. That’s the reality of being born the way I am. Even though I wouldn’t trade the thrill of poaching for anything, I still understand the risks. And while stealing luck from others isn’t the most honorable way to make a living, you do what you have to do to pretend that your actions are justified.
    The problem with poaching luck is that sooner or later, karma is bound to catch up with you. After all, you can’t take something from someone without paying a price.
    While Tuesday continues her phone conversation and her drink arrives, something clear and cold in a tall glass, I notice a big, bald white guy reading the newspaper and watching her from two tables away. His head is shaved, he’s wearing sunglasses, and he’s dressed in a black, short-sleeve shirt and jeans. Whoever he is, he’s watching Tuesday with as much interest as I am.
    I watch Tuesday and Baldy for about ten minutes, hiding behind my camouflage of shrubs and palm trees and tourists.Whatever the topic of Tuesday’s conversation, it seems to end abruptly. With a single push back in her chair and a final tip of her glass, Tuesday stands up and walks off, leaving half her drink behind, and starts walking right toward where I’m hiding.
    Before I can manage to duck behind my shrubs or hide behind a family of four from Holland, Tuesday walks past and crosses the street, then heads toward the Stockton Tunnel, apparently oblivious to my presence. I watch her from the corner of my eye and let her get halfway to Starbucks before I start after her, staying on the opposite side of the street. I’m almost to the Grand Hyatt when I notice Baldy directly across from me, following Tuesday.
    And now I’m wondering if I’m the only private investigator with an interest in Tuesday Knight.
    She crosses Sutter to the parking garage, then stops and turns around, looking back down the street, so I blend in with a group of Chinese tourists, which isn’t easy to do when you’re taller than most of them and about as Chinese as bacon. When I look up, Tuesday is flagging down a cab near the bus stop and climbing inside.
    I pull out the business card she gave me, which just