We all have our phobias. And we are throwing, hiding, or not, when some absurd person thinks of opening an umbrella in a closed place. When they pass the salt shaker in our hands, or worse, they spill it, cross the cutlery or break the bread upside down. We also don't stay calm when we go under a ladder (beware of scaffolding and moving cranes, there's always someone hidden there) or, if it breaks, horror !, a damn mirror . The list is personalized by everyone in their own way and includes worse moments like when you run into that slimy neighbor who insists on wearing yellow T-shirts.
Collaphobia is the clinical name of aversion to Friday the 13th, a complication of triscaidecaphobia or this so western terror of the 13th. on Tuesday (one arrives in September and we finish with another in December), while in Italy the label is for the 17th. And again, if it falls on a Friday, as will happen in June. Reasons? They have it.
In ancient Rome, the 17th was the anagram that suggested I lived, so I'm dead. He also disliked the Pythagoreans because "17 rises between 16 and 18 as an obstacle that breaks the proportion of one and one-eighth at unequal intervals." Sounds good. There are superstitions for everyone. What? We also become hater s of the 17th?