Vindicated

Vending machines are not my friends.
I try so hard, I really do... I stop by frequently, and its not like all I ever do is take, there's equal compensation available in this relationship. I'm not asking much, just the same attention that everyone else seems to acquire so easily. Perhaps I'm too needy, maybe if leave those men hanging for a few days they'll be like putty in my hands (or rather pretzels in my hands, because that's what I want).

But, in the past week, I have been denied, cheated and lied to. I will not stand for it anymore. I deserve more from you BYU vending machines!

Monday:
A certain vending machine who will not be named (3rd floor of the JKB, just outside the math lecture halls...) cheated me out of my money and my pride. Have you ever tried those honey wheat pretzel sticks? I think I'm addicted to them. They are item number "B0" in every vending machine here on campus, but they're only available in the ones that aren't refrigerated (So not the ones that sell... fruit snacks, sausage & egg sandwiches or mushy apples... which all need to be refrigerated). I also think I may be the only person who ever purchases them. Frequently after class I have been known to hit this particular vending machine up before I head back to work and slowly but surely the supply of honey pretzels dwindles until re-fill day (I think its Monday... don't hate because I'm the type of girl who knows her machine's schedule, we're just that close). Anyway for some reason, this machine had not delivered and he was simply out of those beloved pretzels. But I was in a hurry and I simply didn't give him the attention he deserved. I walked up, swiped my card and pressed B-0. Then sat back and felt the tug on my heart as I watched the empty coil where those lovely little treats should have been... just spin and spin. What a tease.

Tuesday (Yes, it is possible to live the life where you are flitting from vending machine to vending machine):
Its post devotional and I have an hour to study before my next class. Conveniently, this same event also coincides my not having eaten anything all morning. With conflicting desires in my heart, I sulk off to find a vending machine that might satisfy my needs for the time being. Did anyone know that there are literally no machines to be found in the JSB? Why? Does eating make us less holy?? The next closest one is in the Heber J.Grant building or in other words... the testing center. A building most prefer not to venture to unless necessary. But, I assure you it was necessary. My tummy had the rumblies. But curse all my luck. As I get there I find that not only am I without my beloved ID card, I also have forgotten my wallet. There's nothing left but to dig through everything I own for change. I come up with 30 cents and a lost Caribbean Tanzanite ring. Altogether a lot more in value than anything for sale in that cursed machine, but to this fickle beast, what am I worth? 30 cents. Do you know what you can buy at a BYU vending machine for 30 cents? Not gum. Not breathmints. Not a fig bar. Nothing. It was a trick question. You can't buy anything for 30 cents.

This morning:
having woken up too late and rushing out the door, I forget everything that I might need/want throughout the day. Namely, food (and or cash to purchase food with). Not to be undone, I loaded my BYU card with money and headed to the vending machine. We only have one lone machine here in the Kennedy Center... it doesn't carry honey wheat pretzels. Suddenly I'm cursing myself for not taking that job in the Tanner, where they have an entire room devoted to vending machines, there's about 8. Its like winning an Oscar over there in the Tanner and I'm stuck with a daytime Emmy here in the KC. Furthermore, to my frustration, the one machine wasn't working correctly. Namely, it didn't accept cards! I'm a regular to this particular machine. I KNOW it accepts cards...EVERY machine here on campus accepts cards. I swipe that card a few times out of desperation, no dice. In a rage of  frustration, I press all the buttons. I swear I heard laughing emitting from that blasted hunk of metal. Then I come up with the idea to unplug it.. like a computer. When a computer is misbehaving, usually the solution lies in rebooting it. So I pull the plug (sidenote... pulling the plug came with perhaps an unhealthy feeling of satisfaction). When I restore the plug, I hear the faithful whirring of my devoted little machine... and then I hear something hard hit the bottem. I open the door... its a gift! The vending machine gave me free orange juice!!

Yay!


I believe in vending machines again.