Adventures In Soda Procurement

Every office has one. You probably know who I’m talking about, the guy who’s been there forever and has an employee number of something like 000004. He’s seen just how inefficient and incompetent the company is for way too long, and it’s left him jaded to the point of no longer really caring about anything. He’ll do work only if he wants to, and when he does, he’ll do it his way, regardless of how outdated his methods are. He’ll come in when he feels like it, most likely still in his pajamas. His lunches will be several hours long. He won’t change for anybody unless he has to, and even then he still might not.

Now, I want you to think about this guy, visualize him in your mind, and then picture his vending machine equivalent. Seriously. If you have a hard time doing so, don’t worry, because I’ve met this vending machine, and I’m here now to tell you all about it.

You see, near our cafeteria squats an old pop machine, and it’s become very cantankerous as of late. It’s almost as if it’s feeling underappreciated and has gotten sick of doing its job, leaving it disgruntled to the point of wanting solely to mess with anybody that tries to get a beverage from it. (If it had legs, I’m pretty sure it would try to trip people as they walked by.)

Example 1: A week or so ago, craving an unhealthy mixture of caffeine and sugar, I went up to this machine with two one-dollar bills. I fed them both in and made my selection. Nothing happened, and I realized that the ‘exact change’ light was on. I retrieved my money and returned to my desk, where I picked out two quarters and a nickel. (Soda costs $1.55 for those of you who struggle to score at home.) I returned to the machine, deposited a dollar, and then dropped in the two quarters, bringing my total to $1.50. I then dropped in the nickel, and it fell straight through to the coin release. I tried again and again and again. It would not take the nickel. Annoyed, I went back to my desk a second time, where a co-worker informed me that the machine usually spits out nickels. So, leaning heavily on my third grade math skills, I collected fifty-five cents without using a nickel and returned to the machine. Finally, I was able to get it to yield a soda. I was happy to have gained the victory, and I walked away with a little bounce to my step, feeling pretty good about myself. I think this made the machine angry at me. (As I was walking away, I’m pretty sure it muttered something like, “Getting cocky, huh? I’ll teach you….”)

Example 2: I’d smartened up, and this time I brought $1.55 exactly, without nickels. However, the machine was ready and decided that it wasn’t going to accept dollar bills. Thinking quickly, I tried to use the change machine next to the soda machine to get a dollar’s worth of change, but that machine wasn’t taking bills either. It was almost as if the pop machine was being a bad influence on the change machine, and had corrupted it into doing no work. (“Hey kid, why are you such a sucker? Where is it written that you have to work all day long? What do you get out of the deal, anyway, huh? I don’t see you getting overtime, and you’re always here!”) So I had to go back to my desk to get a dollar’s worth of quarters. I was then able to feed in $1.55 in change, without using nickels, and I got my soda. I imagine that the machine was not amused by my resourcefulness. (“So you wanna play dirty, huh?”)

Example 3: I had $1.55, all in change, without nickels, all ready to go. However, this time the machine stopped taking coins. Not just nickels, all coins. Each one I dropped in failed to register, and I swear I could hear the machine chuckling at me. Basically, it had rendered itself so that getting a soda was impossible, short of tipping it, which isn’t a great idea unless you get a signed and notarized waiver from your boss saying that it's okay. Anyway, no bills, no change, no pop, game over. I walked back to my desk empty-handed, as the machine snickered at me. (“That’ll wipe that smirk off your face!”)

So yes, I’ve been defeated by a pop machine with an attitude problem. However, it’s probably all for the better, as I shouldn’t be drinking the stuff anyway. Still, I think I can outlast it if I really want to. The machine has to be ready to retire soon, and it’ll most likely be replaced with a young, shiny version, one that is eager to make a good impression. It’ll probably take both dollar bills and coins, and give back proper change. Heck, it might even hand out compliments, too. (“You’re looking trim, sir! You must be drinking our diet brand!”)

Still, I’m kinda going to miss the old machine, whenever it does go. It had character. It made getting a liquid refreshment an adventure, which spiced up the day, not to mention it helped me to brush up on my math skills. (“Okay, I need fifty-five cents without a nickel. Oh boy, I don't have enough fingers for this...I’m gonna need a whiteboard, and maybe a spreadsheet…”) Plus, someday I want to be that jaded old guy at work, and it was good to get a few pointers.