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Remember when getting a bottom locker felt like winning the lottery? Little did we know, it was just the universe's way of preparing us for a lifetime of bending down to pick things up. Thanks, school, for the early back-pain training.
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Lockers were the original social media. I mean, who needs Instagram when you can decorate your locker with pictures of your crush, motivational quotes, and the occasional doodle of a smiling potato? I was basically curating my own hallway gallery.
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I always wondered if lockers had feelings. I mean, imagine being slammed shut multiple times a day, hearing whispered secrets, and occasionally getting sticker-bombed by rebellious teenagers. If lockers could talk, they'd probably have the juiciest gossip.
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Lockers were the original influencers. I'd see someone with a super organized, color-coded locker, and suddenly I'd question my life choices. I mean, if they could conquer the chaos of high school, maybe they had the secret to world peace too.
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You ever notice how lockers in high school were like our personal Fort Knox? I felt like I needed a secret handshake just to open mine. And if you forgot the combo, it was like trying to crack the Da Vinci Code just to get your algebra book.
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Lockers were the original escape rooms. You'd think remembering a four-digit combination would be easy, but no, it was like my brain transformed into a goldfish every time I stood in front of that metal puzzle. Maybe I should've brought snacks to lure my memory back.
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Lockers taught me the importance of trust. I mean, you had to trust that your locker buddy wouldn't accidentally reveal your embarrassing doodles or, even worse, swap your math book with a romance novel. High school would've been a whole different experience if algebra turned into love triangles.
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Lockers had this magical ability to make you forget things. I'd open mine and suddenly lose all knowledge of my schedule, my homework, and my existence. It was like Narnia, but with more trigonometry.
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Have you ever tried fitting a week's worth of textbooks into a locker designed for a single lunchbox? It's like playing Tetris in real life. I was convinced my locker was secretly training me for a future career in professional packing.
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Lockers are like the lost and found of the hallway. I opened mine once and found a missing sock, a crumpled-up note that wasn't meant for me, and a snack that expired back when dinosaurs roamed the Earth. My locker was basically a time capsule of questionable life choices.
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