Ah the results of being sleep deprived. I'll probably regret posting this by the morning. Don't own Marvel, never will.
I could easily ignore Iron Man. A crazy billionaire deciding to go around saving people in a technologically advanced suit wasn't a far cry from anyone else's midlife crisis. His was only on a larger scale because of his money and genius. The Hulk destroying my workplace was only a minor setback because I had already put in my two week notice, and I commuted from Brooklyn anyway. The crazy wormhole over Manhattan was enough to get my attention, but I decided that studying for my biochemistry final was a little more important because I assumed that if the apocalypse didn't happen after all, my professor wouldn't take that as an excuse. He was a bit of a dick.
The next day, I walked over the wreckage to get to the clothing store I worked at, only to find that it had been destroyed. At least that time, I wasn't inside it. I went online and filled out a few job applications while I ate from the shady and intact Chinese place a block from my building.
I was working at a coffee shop yet again when the whole SHIELD thing went down. It wasn't a Starbucks like last time and the commute was a little shorter, but work is work, and that never changes. I got the graveyard shift, when very few people needed caffeine, when he walked in. For a second, I had trouble placing him. I knew I saw him on television before, but I wondered for a second if he was an actor before I realized who he was.
"What would you like, Dr. Banner?" I asked.
He jumped, like he didn't think he would be recognized so easily. To his credit, the drunk guy in the corner didn't register the fact that he even came in, "Oh—uhm—well—I don't know."
"Go ahead. Take your time. Sorry about the menu, the owner things the whole cursive on a chalkboard thing is charming, but he writes like a third grader on speed. It pisses off the everyone in the morning."
"It's not that bad—is that an n?"
"How about I make you some herbal tea. Caffeine free."
He nodded awkwardly. I found it kind of adorable. He reminded me of a puppy somehow, if a puppy was also a shy professor and giant green monster dude.
He stood awkwardly in front of the counter, even though I would have been more than happy to deliver it to him. He did help prevent the apocalypse, after all.
"So uhm—have you always worked here?" It was so adorable of him to try and make conversation. I could tell, even without knowing where he was from, that he wasn't a New Yorker. They were brisk and almost always in too much of a hurry to talk to the barista. We didn't want to miss the next train or bus, or else we would have to hail a taxi and that cost a lot of money for people that could barely afford living in New York in the first place.
"No. I started out in coffee. You know, I was working in Harlem a while back. Coffee shop."
"Oh—" A look of understanding crossed his face.
"Nah. It's all good. That whole thing was kind of a trip." I replied, writing his name on a cup. I thought about it for a moment, before writing the rest. "You smashed it to smithereens."
"I am so sorry." He looked like he was about to get on his knees and beg forgiveness."
"Oh no, don't be. No one was hurt. A dude walked in and robbed the cash register at gunpoint the day before. Crouching underneath the counter kind of became a normal thing. I'm from the Midwest you see, so taking cover isn't anything real new."
"I'm sorry but uhm—what does that have to do with anything?"
"Tornados."
"I don't follow."
"We had drills constantly. I've known how to duck and cover properly since I was a baby. If there's not a basement, go into the bathroom or pick an internal wall farthest away from the windows. Get on your knees, tuck your head under as far as it can go, cover your neck with your hands and pray to Jesus, Mary, and the Holy Ghost."
"That's terrible."
"But true. And I'm not done. Do you know what we did after we duck in cover in the restroom for an hour?"
"What?"
"We get up, and go back to class. Frankly, my dear, you're not as much of a natural disaster as you think. I could move back to Kansas, but then I could be mowed down by a tornado. Florida could be cool, but I don't like the humidity or the snakes. People smash up Europe a lot too, so that wouldn't do me any good. If you run, you encounter the same thing, just in a different form. At least here, I'm more likely to die from something badass like an alien invasion or a city worker dropping a pipe on my head. I don't see the point in freaking out about it."
"What do you do instead of freaking out, then?"
"Get high and watch documentaries."
He snorted. I felt like doing a victory dance for finally making the man laugh—sort of. It was more like a huff with the corner of his mouth jerking up in a half smile, but I counted it.
"I don't see the point in feeling mad or getting sad about life. Life happens. You deal with it or you die. Then you carry on. Honestly, I'm kind of hoping robots come next. Now that would be badass."
"You're insane."
"The world's insane, buddy. The sooner you accept that, the happier you'll be. It's on the house." I slid the Styrofoam cup across the table.
"That's not necessary."
"Seriously, dude. You're too much. When someone offers you free overpriced tea, you accept. Hell, someone could tell me they laced my ice cream with arsenic and I'd still consider eating it if it were free."
He nodded awkwardly, pushing up his glasses on his nose. "Thank you. I'll uhm—try not to break this coffee shop too."
"That'd be super cool, man. Just saying."
He waved on the way out but paused, staring at the side of the cup for a moment. He snorted, yet again, and kept walking. That was a double victory for me.
BB, Hulk—My second favorite Avenger.