October 15th, 2008 by Kateastrophe

It was lunch time. I hadn’t eaten breakfast (bad idea when you’re hypoglycemic, just for the record.) and lunch was nowhere close to happening. I was STARVING and shaky. And cranky. BOY was I cranky.

I keep a stash of quarters in my desk drawer just for such occasions. I don’t LIKE using them, because I end up eating something with eight million calories and four thousand grams of fat, but sometimes I HAVE to use them. I grabbed three, which was the amount I would need for a Twix, and walked into the break room. Not paying much attention, I plopped in my three quarters and pushed 43 for a Twix. BEEP BEEP BEEP. Wha??

The display was flashing the number “$0.85″ at me.

EIGHTY FIVE CENTS for a CANDY BAR? My blood boiled. I was being taken advantage of! My need for food was feeding the greedy candy man’s growing empire. I angrily pushed the button to get my quarters back and went in search of a stupid dime. I was too hungry to fight this battle today. I needed food!

After finding my dime, I stormed back in to the break room and plopped my FRICKIN’ EIGHTY FIVE CENTS into the machine. Then I noticed something. A Baby Ruth, teetering dangerously from the metal tooth of the candy machine. HA! I was going to give it to the candy man. Not only would I get a Baby Ruth in all it’s peanutty goodness, but I would get TWO. I really wanted a Twix, but TWO Baby Ruth’s are way better than one Twix.

47. Screw 43, I want number 47.

Then the miracle occurred. The parts of the machine started turning and I heard two plops. Then two more. Then two more . . . and again! And AGAIN! Both the Twix and Baby Ruth sections where whirring away, spitting out not just the two Baby Ruth’s . . . but EIGHT candy bars. Four Twix and four Baby Ruth bars! JACKPOT!

Ignoring the drooling glances of everyone else in the break room, I selfishly gathered up my huge pile of loot and stormed triumphantly to my desk. I had battled the machine and I had won.

That day will go down in history as the day I took it to the candy man – and ate EIGHT candy bars.* I like to think it was a win-win, but my ass seems to disagree heartily. Too bad, ass.

*OK I lied took creative license on that little detail. I didn’t eat all eight that day. I shared one with the guy in the cube next to me and I still have one Baby Ruth left. But not for long.