Weddings are full of superstition. As a superstitious society we are more likely to expect bad luck to strike on Friday 13th than any other date. Indeed the fear of the number 13 even has a name, albeit one most of us can't pronounce: triskaidekaphobia.
Last week something happened to me on the train home from London. It was Friday the 13th. I wasn't attacked with a machete, by a bloke in a hockey mask called Jason, or anything. I was on the 16.42 from St. Pancras to Margate.