A few years ago I had a friend who was Irish. She had this bright red hair, and really pale skin. Her name was Sara. Sara probably had the worst luck I've ever seen in my life. Her whole life was filled with bad luck for some bizarre reason.
Sara lost her pencil case in the first week of school, and she kept tripping all the time. At first I'd dismissed it as being disorganization and clumsiness, but then I heard that her favorite bracelet had gotten stolen. I was starting to think that her "luck of the Irish" was bad luck.
She lost things constantly, tripped over pencils, and got in trouble all the time for being late. At the end of school year Sara moved away,. and her bad luck went with her. It was unusually quiet until I finally got used to life without constant yelling from Sara.
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