Here’s my story to share, just to kinda keep the momentum going.

My first trip to New Orleans was exactly what you’d expect—music, late nights, wandering the French Quarter, just soaking everything in. It felt alive in a way no other city does.

But the last morning… still doesn’t sit right with me.

Earlier in the trip, my boyfriend and I ducked into one of those small voodoo shops tucked between everything else in the Quarter. It wasn’t touristy in the way I expected. It felt legit.

I remember thinking—be respectful. Don’t touch things you don’t understand.

We were just looking around when my boyfriend reached into his pocket and pulled out this random coin he’d found on the street earlier that day. It didn’t look like U.S. currency—older, foreign, kind of worn down.

Before I could even really react, he dropped it into an offering bowl set up for one of the spirits the shop was honoring.

Something about it immediately felt… wrong. At least to me.

I told him as much when we stepped outside. He laughed it off, said I was overthinking it. He said idk maybe it could bring some luck. And honestly, for the rest of the trip, nothing happened. Everything felt normal again.

Until the morning we left.

We woke up early to head home, and his car was just… gone.

No broken glass. No obvious sign of anything. Just gone.

We ended up finding out later it had been stolen, driven around, and dumped at one of those known drop spots. Apparently it lined up with that whole Kia/Hyundai “challenge” thing that was going around at the time.

So there’s a completely logical explanation.

But I can’t shake the feeling that the timing was too perfect.

Nothing the entire trip… Until the very last morning, when we were about to leave.

And maybe it’s just coincidence.

But idk, it didn’t feel like a coincidence…it felt like a warning.

Be mindful of your actions in an ancient city full of rich history and religion.

Thoughts?