Vending Machine Wars

So, here I am at work and I say to my coworker Annie, I’d like a snack. Popcorn sounds good. Specifically, white cheddar seasoned popcorn. I know the vending machine has some. So I take my little change purse and head to the cafeteria to fetch myself some popcorn. In goes the twoonie. Deliberately, and with purpose, I press the corresponding numbers for my bag of popcorn. I watch the coils turn and listen to the gentle whir and stuttering as my bag of popcorn gets pushed closer and closer to the edge. But wait! What’s this? The coils aren’t stopping? Oh happy day! I’m getting a two for one! Wait, what’s happening now? A third bag?!?! My stars in heaven! It’s my lucky day. My excitement subsides as I realize, Shit, none of the bags are actually dropping down through the flaps. They are merely wedging up against one another and the front of the machine. I stand there for a moment, confused. What do I do? I tell you what I do. I look around suspiciously like I’m being punked. Satisfied there is no one hiding in a corner laughing at me, I bang the machine. Why I chose violence as my first option may be worth a later discussion. Hmmm. But, I digress. There is no movement from the banging on the glass. In reality, it was more of a slap. Bitch, give me my popcorn! I try shaking the machine. Still nothing. I have an idea! What if I bought a snack above the popcorn? Surely it would fall straight and true, knocking the popcorn free. And, as “luck” would have it, the machine had not actually charged me for the popcorn! I still had a $2 credit! Looking at the options above the chips, I choose the bag of peanuts. They’re higher than the Aero bar, but not as high as the Miss Vickies. I imagine the peanuts will be like a little honey roasted bullet, firing down into the popcorn, blasting the bags apart and into my reach! I was wrong. Those peanuts were a honey roasted disappointment! Now what? What’s my next move? To put another $1.25 into the coin slot and try the Miss Vickies of course! Hey Miss Vickies! I’ve got a message for you! You are nothing more than a pigeon feather, disguised as a teal (shoutout, Rylan) bag of sea salt and malt vinegar chips, floating down ever so slowly and gently that I think time itself has stood still. (Do not be fooled by the saliva pooling in my mouth as I write about you. I hate you.) So now I have a bag of peanuts and a bag of chips, but no popcorn 😦

I look around for a prop of some sort. Obviously by this time I have tried violating the machine with my hand, and that hasn’t worked. I spy the cutlery. Maybe a knife will fit. It fits alright, but doesn’t reach the popcorn. Not ready to admit defeat, I head back into the office and tell Annie about my dilema. Together we search for something sturdy, yet pliable. A wire coat hanger would be perfect! No…wire…hangers! (I just opened the bag of Miss Vickies. I’m hate-eating.)

The only prop I can find that might work is a thick cord. I tell Annie I will be back and once again head to the cafeteria. I stick the cord up through the narrow opening. This cord was basically a drunk penis. Slightly hard, you could get it almost where you wanted it, but the moment you allowed yourself to hope, down it went. And you end up sweaty, swearing, and fed up. It is in this moment, I remember I did not bathe today.

By this point, I have no idea how much time has passed. Is it still nighttime? Has Halloween gone by?

Well, I’ve already tried a knife, but what about…a straw?! Even better, two straws, one inserted into the other to make an extra long straw. Ha ha! Genius! Wait, I mean, fail. Sure, it’s long, but it does absolutely nothing for me. It’s too soft. And instead of holding a sharp enough angle to hit the popcorn, it gently curves to the side. (I didn’t intend on so much penis imagery, but I’m fucking going with it.)

I am determined to get this fucking popcorn. It’s become personal.

Fork time! Well, that was ridiculous. Go back to your drawer, fork, you’re drunk!

You know what, I’m going to give the knife one more shot. It’s not fancy, but it’s straight and hard, I just have to somehow maneuver it into hitting the right spot. Easier said than done. You ladies know what I’m talking about 😉 Maybe if I move it side to side. Yeah, that’s working. I think the bag moved a millimetre or two. Do it again! Just. a. little. bit. more. Almost! Aaannnddd….the knife falls down like it’s finished it’s job, but I’m still left wanting. Typical. However, the knife did manage to shift the bags slightly. Maybe if I jiggle it, that will knock everything loose, and I’ll get what I want. I shake the machine a little, and the middle bag falls! One down, two to go! More shaking! I start to think I’m making too much noise and I will be discovered by the security guard doing his rounds, but I can’t stop, I’m so close! (It briefly runs through my mind that there is real possibility this machine will fall over on top of me. I accept the risks involved.) Another bag shakes loose! The 1st bag falls directly across the front of the machine, gingerly suspended. I’m almost there! With one hard and fast slap on the opening flaps, my prize is upon me! Ecstasy!

I return to the office, triumphant. The spoils are shared between us, and I am satiated.

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