Seldom does a day go by where at least once, I don’t think to myself how great it would be if I were Luke Cage. A fairly unsuspecting guy who can blend in anywhere he goes, but he’s really practically invulnerable and has super strength and for the most part doesn’t ever have to be afraid of anyone because not just anyone can actually harm him with fists, knives or even bullets.
Seriously, if I had the capabilities of Luke Cage, I probably wouldn’t go off and become a Defender and try to be any sort of a superhero. Superheroes get super villains, and then there are a whole lot of superhero responsibilities that come with being one. No, I’d just want to capitalize on the confidence of knowing that I’m pretty much invincible and start doing all the things I think and say in my head, and say them out loud, since all fear of physical retribution is off the table if one were Luke Cage.
If I saw someone littering outside, I could actually not be reluctant to call out and reprimand them and then force them to pick up their shit. They could step up all they wanted, and even throw the first punch, but when I’m Luke Cage, their fist would get shattered, and then they’d have to do what I told them, lest I grab them by the collar and personally walk them to some police or something. Or if I’m on public transportation, and someone is blasting music out of their earbuds that everyone can hear, I can tap them on the shoulder and ask them to turn it down, and when they escalate the situation from their rotten defiance, I can wait for them to try and land the first blow and then dominate them without any fear of harm.
The list of things that would be great if I were Luke Cage could go on for days honestly, but of all the things that could possibly actually get this particular post off the ground, it would be calling out people at the gym, that for whatever reason it is, feel the need to occupy two lockers in the locker room to store their shit.
Honestly, I get why they do it, because at the case at my gym, people are going during their work lunch breaks, so they’re expected to go back to the office afterward. They don’t want to get their oxford shirts and khaki slacks tainted by being in contact with dirty gym bags or used gym clothing, so they separate their work clothes from their less than clean personal effects in two separate lockers.
However, as is the case with my gym, there’s not always enough lockers to begin with, and there are peak times of the day in which finding an open one might not be the easiest thing in the world. And it’s at those particular times where someone utilizing two lockers because they’re germaphobes is a dick move.
Now if I were Luke Cage, and I saw someone stuffing their shit into two lockers, I could call them out on it in front others, and see if verbal shaming alone would do the trick. However, if it didn’t, and they try to step up and get all defiant, I’m not sure what I’d do. I’d probably want to goad them into hitting me, so they can break their own hands on my indestructible skin, but if they’re just being passive aggressive and non-physical, I guess I would just proceed to remove their shit from one of the lockers, and hope that they try to physically stop me, in which they’d learn real fast that they couldn’t.
And then with their shit in tow, I’d stuff it all into one locker, so that all the dirty effects can touch the office-appropriate attire, and then with my mighty Luke Cage fingers, I’d twist the metal joint so that the locker would be effectively locked shut.
The dick would learn their lesson not to take up two lockers, and the world would be a better place for it, thanks to someone like me being Luke Cage.
Unfortunately, because I’m not a Luke Cage, I can only brog about fantasies and what-if scenarios, and not actually get in someone’s face to try and change their behavior. The world is full of way too psychotic assholes and passive-aggressive trolls to want to bother getting involved with one another.
So, I guess since I’m not Luke Cage, I’d have to settle for a different course of action. Maybe instead, if I’m really having a shitty afternoon, and the circumstances are just right, meaning I’m all alone in the locker room when an asshole finishes utilizing two lockers, I’m totally going to wipe off my balls on the collar of their dress shirt.
That’ll learn them, and I don’t have to be Luke Cage for that.
