I am going to give you a warning now so that you never make the same mistake that I did. Never, and I mean never, hit that delete button when you receive a chain email telling you that you will have bad luck if you don't forward the email immediately. Its only 1 o'clock in the afternoon and I’m seriously regretting deleting that email. It was your typical chain email, telling me that if I don't forward it to 10 people in the next ten minutes, I would have extremely bad luck for the next 10 hours. I was sitting at my desk, a new intern, and extremely excited for my first day of working for the magazine. My boss didn't seem to understand the word “privacy,” and kept attempting to peek at the computer over my shoulder every 5 minutes. So naturally, when that email popped up, I didn’t think much of it and moved my mouse over to the trash icon and deleted that email, before my boss would chance a glance at it.

“Kenley, I wanted those copies on my desk 10 minutes ago,” my boss, Harold, is glaring daggers at me and I hear his jaw click. I glance down at the manuscript I was supposed to copy an hour ago, and began to nervously twirl my hair.

“I’ll get right on it sir,” I say apologetically, risking eye contact with my boss. My chair squeaks as I get up from it and hurry to the copier.

I place the manuscript in the slot on the right, and press the green “GO” button, just like I’ve been taught. And nothing happens. I press the button one more time and wait for something to happen. Nothing does. I press it five more times for good measure, and when nothing happens I may have let out a little steam by yelling at it. I’m not mechanically minded, but I called the store to see if they could tell me what was wrong with it. I didn’t know what was specifically wrong with it, or the names of any of the parts, just that it wouldn’t let me copy that manuscript. So, the store told me that they’d send out a technician on Wednesday. Now let me tell you, it’s Monday. I needed copies of that manuscript in an hour, not three days! I figured the only choice I had was to drive down to the local Xerox and make a couple of copies there.

““Where are you going?”

I twirled my hair while I looked at the floor, “To the local Xerox. The copier broke down.”
Harold stomped toward me, keeping his glare set on my head. “Not again. That copier is only 6 months old. Hurry up. I need those copies in a half hour”

I looked up, and let go of my hair, “Alright sir. You’ll have those copies in a half hour,” and I scurried away, making my quick escape.

I got into my car, and turned the ignition on. It just went, “click, click, click,” and stopped. It wouldn’t move an inch, not one measly, tiny inch. Is that really too much to ask? I riffled through my purse for my ancient phone, and dialed my car repair shop. I was surprised to hear them pick up on first ring. Normally, I’d have to listen to that god-awful country music for at least 10 minutes. It was my first piece of luck the entire day.
“Hello, this is Quick Automobile Repairs, the cheapest and fastest way to get your car repaired today,” said a chirpy voice over the phone.

“Yes, hello. I’m in a parking garage right now and my car doesn’t seem to want to start. I don’t know what's wrong with it but I would really appreciate it, if you could get it fixed as soon as possible,” I told her. The lady took down my information and where I was at the time.

“Just hang tight. We’ll have a tow truck over in 15 minutes,” she told me. Again, I was surprised by how quick I could get the car fixed. It was pretty chilly outside, and there was a steady breeze blowing, but I decided to wait outside the car so that I could see the tow truck when it came. It was silent in the parking garage, and I couldn’t see anyone anywhere. The eerie silence began to put me on edge. I rubbed my hands together to try to get some circulation flowing through my hands again.

While I was waiting, I called me boss to let him know that he probably won't be getting those copies in 30 minutes. Let’s just say, his response was less than joyous.

“I cannot believe how irresponsible you’ve been on the first day of your internship. It’s been 15 minutes since your car broke down, and you had the decency to call me now?” There were several expletives used but I won't torture you with everything he said.

After what felt like hours the tow truck finally inched into the parking garage.. By then, I was beginning to feel those hunger pangs, and mixed with my frustration, I wasn’t feeling at my best.

“Took you long enough,” I said with as much attitude as I could conjure.

“I’m sorry ma'am. We were running a bit behind schedule,” the man deadpanned, as if I didn’t already know that. Of course they were running behind schedule. My car was supposed to be towed away an hour ago!

I tapped my foot impatiently while he hooked up the car to the truck. The man putting my car onto the truck looked flustered, and couldn’t seem to tie my car to truck correctly. Of course, of all the people in this world, my car would be the one that needs to be towed away by a newbie on the job. At the dealership, I found out that I would be paying a total of 900 dollars to fix my car. 900. Dollars. I was already behind on my rent, I had tuition to pay for, and now I had to pay 900 dollars to get my rubbish car fixed. My luck could not get worse. And that’s when I realized why my luck has gone down the sewer. It was that chain email that I had deleted. Which is why I’m here now, to tell you all that you should never, and I mean never, delete those chain emails. It isn't worth the pain.