Sad! This Buffoon Lost All His Worldly Possessions in a Pottruck Locker

Uh oh! Everyone always had the suspicion that Jacob Adams was a boob, but ever since he lost everything to a Pottruck locker, there's no doubt. 

Hitting the gym wasn't typical for Adams, but after a long day of sleeping through lecture, he decided that it was time to start working on that Fling tank body. “I was so proud of myself” remarked the College junior, “it’s pretty rare that I do something that doesn’t involve sleeping, eating, or consuming unhealthy amounts of alcohol.” 

Walking into Pottruck Gym for the first time in his three years at Penn, Adams was awed by one thing: the facility's lockers: “there they were so convenient and inviting, just ready to be used,” Adam recalled. “They were practically begging me to put my junk in them. What a mistake that turned out to be.” 

Like an absolute moron, Adams threw all of his worldly possessions, consisting of his backpack, PennCard, and Canada Goose jacket, into a locker, heeding no mind to its number, not knowing that he would never see any of these items ever again. “I was such a fool,” commiserated Adams, “A stupid, stupid little fool.” 

After approximately an hour of intense Instagram scrolling, aimless wandering between floors, and strenuous kegel exercises, Adams was at last ready to call it quits. Walking back to the ocean of lockers outside the weight room, Adams froze. “In that moment,” explained Adams, “I knew I was fucked.” 

Adams picked a locker at random, tried his password, and was able to open nothing. He tried another, again nothing. Hands sweating more than his whole body had in the past hour, Adams twisted dial after dial, hoping at last he would hear the satisfying click. But the universe had no such mercy. Adams reported that he could feel the judgmental eyes of the rest of the gym upon him as he ducked and weaved among the endless masses successfully recovering their own possessions from the depths of the Pottruck Dimension. 

These onlookers had little sympathy for Adams. “Hahaha, what a fucking loser,” laughed Daniel Manieri, a very big man with muscles twice the size of Adams’ head, “these children have brains as small as their muscles. Muscles get big, brain get big, able to remember your locker number good-er.” 

Carissa Franklin, another onlooker at the scene, was similarly unimpressed. “Like, dude, literally just write a reminder on your phone. It’s not that challenging. How the fuck did they let you into this university, anyway?”

As of the writing of this article, Adams could be found wandering aimlessly around Pottruck, still searching for his worldly goods and occasionally stopping to flex and check himself out in a mirror. “It’s not such a bad life,” concedes Adams. “I might be stuck in Pottruck for all eternity, looking for my lost stuff, but at least I still have my Airpods.”