While watching the latest Spider-Man movie I started thinking (always a bad sign during a superhero movie) that even beyond the supernatural elements, superhero films don't really make much logical sense. Consider this, all superheroes have two identities. Their superhero persona, which is an anonymous free-standing force for good, and an unassuming mild-mannered alter-ego. Since the superhuman symbol for truth and justice receives no compensation for selflessly protecting the public, it unfairly and (ironically) unjustly falls on the normal guy who's pretending not to have superpowers to support both personas with an ordinary run-of-the-mill day job.
Of course we know the best way to hurdle this obstacle is being born into a family as a billionaire tycoon ie Bruce Wayne and Tony Stark. But those guys don't even have powers. Being rich is their super power. So what about regular super powered Joes like Clark Kent and Peter Parker? They have these incredible abilities and are forced to live on a journalist's salary. There must be a way, I thought, for them to utilize their extraordinary gifts to pay the rent without revealing themselves.
I continued to ponder this totally important and relevant quandary and eventually arrived at this realization: Spider-Man would make an amazing bartender (pun intended). Think about it. He's incredibly fast and dexterous -- his flair would be legendary. He'd be able to use his webbing to reach bottles at the other end of the bar. He'd never break a glass. He's witty, sarcastic, used to dealing with assholes, but still a genuinely nice guy. He has spider sense! He could be flying through an order of 15 drinks and then all of a sudden realize "we're about to run out of lemon juice!" As a bonus, Peter Parker's affinity for chemistry would apply beautifully to mixology. Within a week the bar would have the best molecular mixology program in New York and the guys at Booker and Dax would be wishing they could turn into giant lizards and flying goblins to take out this mysterious bartending wizard.
But as I delved deeper into this regrettably fictitious scenario I soon realized that applying it to other superheroes does not produce imaginary results quite as favorable. For one, The Hulk would be the worst service employee conceivable. He's clumsy, has a bad attitude and would probably raze the establishment to the ground an hour into his first training shift. Not that I blame him, if I turned into a mass of green rage every time I got frustrated at work I'd be in big trouble too. I'd hate to do it, but if Bruce Banner came looking for a job, I'd have to show him the door.
In fact, there are more superheroes I can think of that would be poor service employees than good ones. Wolverine? Storm? Ghost Rider? Aquaman?? Yikes.
I have every confidence in the The Avengers' ability to save the world. But working a brunch service? I'm not holding my breath.
So keep that in mind next time you're dining out. Excellent service, like swinging down 5th avenue with synthetic webbing, is not as easy as it looks.
Spider-Man, you're hired. The rest of you, thanks for the resume, we'll call if we're interested.