I Hate Vending Machines - Revisited

I hate vending machines. They are nothing but physical manifestations of the greed and wanton disrespect corporate America has for the consuming public. You have no choice as to what is offered and no complaint if what you picked does not come out. And then you have maybe an even chance of not receiving your money back. 

I have always hated these box like clerks who stand there woodenly, silent, with suspicious brightness and cheery demeanor. Their cover tempts us with visions of Palm Trees and bottles with droplets dripping seductively, giving the impression that once we have punched in the $1.25, 12ozs of thirst busting pleasure will envelop our taste buds. And what pops out, a warm coke that got dented on the way out and then explodes as you break the seal and raise it too your lips. There's your thirst busting pleasure fella. Right there in your face. Enjoy!
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The above is an edited repeat of one of my first blog posts from 2004, which was my grand entrance into the World of Blogs and the wacky folk who live there.

I only bring it up now, because of a recent run in with yet another electronic vendor.  I put in my 2 bucks and watched the mechanical screw move the bottle to the drop box where any second now my mouth would be wallowing in expected sugary fizz.  ...................

Instead of dropping dutifully, that bottle rebelled and became hung up just behind the glass.  It mocked me as only a rebellious bottle of soda can. And no matter how I tried, my hand would not reach it. So close, yet so far.

My hatred of coin operated anything goes back to my childhood.  I learned early to never trust a box with pull handles or buttons.  They are a pox on our civilization.

Keep it 'tween the ditches ........................................