Eruantale

On Friday last, a classmate of mine discovered
that you are actually giving away the energy drinks marked one dollar
for a mere ten cents,
so it seems that you may have changed your ways.
In fact, you gave me back a quarter
when I put in a dollar for an iced honeybun last month,
which I thought was very nice of you.
But now I’m not sure about any of the prices you have listed.
You require exact change, but what is it?
Is it sixty-five cents, as marked?
Or is it actually sixty?
This is important, because sometimes I have a nickel
and sometimes I don’t.
I guess I will just try my luck.
Either that, or I will bring a dollar bill,
since you seem to like those so much.
It’s Tuesday, and I need something sweet
to cheer me up before I go take my dreaded math quiz.
A candy bar will do the trick, I’m sure.
Here is my dollar.
It’s nice and crispy, unlike the last one you rejected
for being too floppy and wrinkled.
You gobble it up in delight
and I smack my lips in anticipation.
This time I press the buttons carefully.
I do not press E1 when I want E10.
(I still remember the beef and cheese stick)
The buttons are pressed, and I await the delivery
of my Snickers bar,
but nothing is happening.
You make no attempt to give me what I paid for.
The rings do not rotate,
and you will not release my candy bar.
I thought you might be nice to me
after our last conversation,
but here we are again.
And all you say in response
as you spit out my thirty cents change and withhold my candy bar
is:
have a nice day.

First of all, why don’t you have prices on every selection?
Can’t you just be upfront about these things?
I know you enjoy making me play guessing games, but I don’t appreciate it.
Second of all, why is the small bottle of Propel fifty cents,
while the large bottle is $2.50?
That doesn’t make any sense.
It’s really annoying that the thing I’m craving
is always the thing that’s lodged up against the glass
with a 10 bottle pile up behind it because
an optimist thought they could dislodge it with another bottle.
Whoever created you must be stinking rich by now.
Also, why did you have to trick me by having a 10 button?
I wanted a Butterfinger bar, so I pressed E and 1.
As my hand moved to the 0 button, I realized
you were already dispensing a beef and cheese stick.
This, I thought, was really very rude,
for a beef and cheese stick is nothing like a Butterfinger bar.
No other machine has a 10 button, so why are you the only one
playing these dirty tricks?
Now I’m eating room temperature beef and cheese
wondering what sort of chemicals I’m ingesting.
Your other offense against me is that you lie to me
by having a quarter slot, but you never accept my quarters.
My quarters go straight through you and are returned to me.
Are my quarters not good enough for you?
Are you too high class for a quarter?
It’s irritating to have to chase down someone with a dollar bill
when all I have are some quarters I grabbed from my change jar
this morning specifically to feed you.
Why is there no consistency to your daily offerings?
Sometimes you have Cheetos.
But other times you have strange, rubbery, beefy things
that smell and taste like wet dog food.
One time I was starving, and I looked to you for aid
but the only snacks available were hot and spicy.
Spicy Jerky, Jalapeno Cheetos, Hot Beef Sticks
Hot Hot Hot Doritos, and even Spicy Gold Fish.
Where on earth did you find spicy gold fish?
Couldn’t you at least offer me regular goldfish?
Every time I’m hungry and desperate, I visit you crossing my fingers
as I insert my money and make my selection.
But the only thing I can really count on is that
inevitably every class I take in this hallway
will eventually be interrupted by an enraged jock
body slamming you because you denied him his Cheez-Its.