The Vending Machine has Become Sentient
I work at what I’d basically call a large outpatient health care provider (it wasn’t my idea, trust me, but it does pay the bills well).
Of course, this means most things are centered around being healthy. Including the food. 90% of the products offered in our little cafe are some kind of organic or natural, or just healthy in general. Which is cool. I dig that as a granola-chomping suburban hippie type.
But then there’s the vending machine.
It’s fucking full of bizarre health foods. Like raw organic snack bars and some kind of almond cluster thing with whey. Here’s the thing. Maybe I’d eat those if I knew what the hell they were. But I don’t know what the hell they are, and I can’t find out without spending a wallet-crushing $3 on something that’s probably gross.
Not to mention that if I’m going to the vending machine, it’s over. I’m not trying anymore. Gimme a god damn cookie.
