Saturday, February 11, 2006

Shirley the Vending Machine Goddess

After numerous fits of cursing like a sailor and pummeling my fists into it's rigid glass, the proprieter of the Vending Machine From Hell finally came and whisked it away.

He had to remove two sets of doors. The grunting could be heard downstairs in the breezeway.

I asked the Short Haired Receptionist, "So, can I hit it just one more time?"

She hopped slightly in her chair and told me to shoosh. "The guys right there!"

"I don't care. That Vending Machine From Hell owes me $1.40."

"Is that what you call it?"

"When I clean it up, sure."

The Vending Machine From Hell was over seven feet tall, black and sleek with a digital readout from the 70's. It had the spiral wiring that spun around when you selected your item.

And every time I was jonesing for a bag of Cheez-Itz, the wire would stop just moments before allowing my dinner to meet it's destiny in the bottom bin.

Bam! Bam! Bam! went my skinny little fists. Sometimes others would hear and they would enter the kitchen and join my cause.

"Lets see if we can rock it," shouted our Stream of Consciousness Engineeer.

"Then lets roll it so we can start our own music company."

The silence premeates the room as I laugh all alone on the inside.

We grabbed both corners of the Vending Machine From Hell and tried to move it ever so slightly to jostle my 70 cent snack, but it just hung there as if unsure as to whether to succumb to it's eventual demise.

"I guess you could buy another one." The Stream of Consciousness Engineer wandered out as I noticed the Cheez-Itz dangling back and forth, uncertain and scared.

Luck, much like my change, had run out.

The Short Haired Receptionist sent out an e-mail asking what our top three snacks and beverages would be for the New Manic Depressant Vending Machine Goddess.

The following is how I responded, fully aware that she could take a sense of humor. You have to be careful in today's Politically Volatile Workplace:

Here are my fantastically overrated requests for the new the manic depressant New Vending Machine that, in the end, will probably break my heart.

I'm hopeful I'll be able to start off my relationship with the New Vending Machine without cursing like a sailor or banging on it like a boxer when it steals my valuable and hard earned change.

The Official Stacy Top 3 Beverage Requests:

1. Coca-Cola (the best beverage ever created my mankind)
2. Cherry Coca-Cola (like #1, only Cherryer)
3. Diet Wild Cherry Pepsi (it's like cherry flavored battery acid, but there's no calories. Or 1 stinkin' calorie, I can't remember...)

The Official Stacy Top 3 Snack Requests:

1. Lays Potato Chips (I can't eat just one, and I don't want to)
2. Cheez-Itz (I just want to tell others to "get their own bag")
3. Chex Mix (traditional, not those other weird combo's they make...yuck)

I would also like to request that the New Vending Machine talk to me in a sexy female voice and finish the transaction with useless positive sayings like, "You're so handsome, enjoy your beverage," or "everyone loves you and so do I." You know, Dr. Phil kinda stuff.

Oh yeah. And her name will be Shirley. I deem it so.

Thank you and good night.


  1. Dude, if you lived in Japan, it would totally be at the station RIGHT NOW.

  2. To hell with Cheezits or Lays! Wouldn't some hot-n-ready spicy turkey meatballs also satisfy?