For a quick bite this afternoon, I went to a nearby lunch counter. I ordered a simple cheeseburger, fries and drink. I didn’t look at the prices and was surprised when I got to the register and he told me, “That’ll be $6.66″

It’s not that I’m cheap, but I found myself uncomfortable with the figure… it’s kinda… apocalyptic. “Are you serious?” I asked.

“Yeah, $6.66″

I should have let it drop, but I couldn’t. I looked around frantically for something else to add to the order. Nothing presented itself.

“You seriously came up with a figure of ‘666′ for a cheeseburger meal?”

He thought I was dickering about the price. “Well… there’s no discount for a ‘Meal’, we’re not McDonalds…” …he broke down the individual prices for me.

“But still, this figure has to come up a lot, right? I mean, people order cheeseburger, fries and a drink all the time, right? Nobody has complained about paying $6.66 before?”

I’m not a particularly superstitious person and I’m barely religious… I don’t think I’m a complete weirdo and I refused to believe that I was the first person who felt uncomfortable spending the “Mark of the Beast” on lunch. I’m a lousy Christian these days, I usually can’t decide if I actually believe in God, but nevertheless, I was raised to fear both God and Satan in a pious protestant household, and I can’t help feeling a little edgy about Satanic symbols…

“Why would they complain? It’s a good price. This is quality Angus beef…” I could have enlightened him on the symbolism, but I didn’t want to come across as a religious fanatic. Instead, I agreed that it sounded like a great burger. At this point I was desperately backpedaling, trying to seem that I was fine with the price… trying desperately to avoid getting saliva in my burger.

But in the end I was undoubtedly flagged as a total cheapskate. You see, 7 is a lucky number…not at all evil… and maybe if you include the 34-cent tip I gave in the total of what I spent on lunch, my cheeseburger was a good omen rather than a harbinger of Armageddon.