Wow, this is the exact same philosophy my dad takes with sports. He will run his favorite team down and ‘bet’ on the worst outcomes all secretly in the hopes that this ‘anti-jinxing’ will tip the odds in his favor. It’s kind of endearing when my dad does it, because my dad isn’t an asshole.
Give Cayla points on being well aware of the weird, facetiously self-deprecating, magical thinking of her husband. She knows what a smug depressive he is, and so far she’s stayed with him anyway. Maybe she has some kind of really fringe sadomasochistic fetish about being with an insufferable twat.
Crazy Harry’s opera glasses are an interesting touch. The art yesterday didn’t seem to indicate the room was that massive, so Harry must be blind as a bat.