There’s something special about vending machines. Especially ones that don’t have the clear glass front.
When I was a kid I used to try and trick the machines in all kinds of ways. Fake money, fishing line tied to real money, tape taped to money, hitting the coin return as soon as I put in the coins…anything for free pop (I’m from Minnesota remember).
But I will say, hearing the can of pop tumble down the shoot is just kind of exciting. I don’t know. There’s some type of wonder that I associate with it.
Partly too, is because buying something out of a vending machines means I’m likely at a place where I’m feeling sassy anyway. Like a hotel, an airport, or the lobby of a used car dealership. So not only am I a leg up on most of society, but I’m about to enjoy a sugary snack.
Spoiler: I’m at a hotel, I have multiple pillows, a giant bed, and I have snacks now.
