The Snack Gods Are Pissed

WELL.

I know it is odd to post twice in one day, especially what with not having posted for a week, but this afternoon was just too good not to share.

Let’s see. Where to start.

It all started with my exceedingly poor meal-planning skeelz, when I grabbed an apple and an Uncrustable out of the fridge this morning, and assumed that would be enough to get me through the day.

More like 10:00 AM. After I went in at 9:30.

Anyway.

I have been very hungry, all day. And so around 3:30, I finally told myself, “Self, you should not have to go hungry just because you are an idiot. You have change in your wallet. Go buy yourself a snack out of the snack machine that you recently discovered in the basement of this building.”

(Me lurking in the basement of a random office building while I should have been running spreadsheets, recently, is an altogether different story. But, happy day! I discovered the snack machine. So it was a useful… alternate use of my time.)

So I poked around in the nether regions of my purse (dirty!) and found several quarters, two nickels, and a dime. I was prepared! I had exact change! I was craving sugar, and I could swing the finest refined stuff there was! So I took the only elevator that goes to the basement, and there, like a beacon of golden yumminess, were Grandma’s Oatmeal Raisin cookies in C3. So I dutifully poked the right number/letter combination, it said, “INSERT 60 CENTS” and I did. And then it said, “25 cents.” And I was confused, as to whether it thought I still needed 25 cents, or if it thought I had only put 25 cents in.

Soft, chewy cookies (plural! There are TWO in a package, oh holy day) are not often found in a dingy snack machine, so I decided it was worth the extra change and put in another quarter. And then another. And then my only dime. And it still read “25 cents” and nothing was happening. So I pushed the lever to return all the money I had put into the damn machine, for it was more than a bill (as in a dollar bill) at that point.

Nothing. So I put in a nickel. Because we’ve already established I’m an idiot. Nothing. So I tried to shake the machine a bit, because I really wanted those fucking cookies.

I may have even body slammed it.

I finally gave up, it was still glaring, “25 cents” and I gave it the finger and sadly went back upstairs, poorer and cookieless.

I almost made it an hour before I could not stand the indignity, and I decided I would treat myself to something chocolatey at Panera, the only decent snack-ish place within walking distance of my office.

I even know a sneaky back way which makes the whole trip much shorter.

Naturally, I ran into a mother fucking coyote.

In the fucking TECH CENTER.

We were, I believe, both surprised.

I backed away slowly, and the (rather large, somewhat-mange-y) animal looked away, I guess because I am not all that threatening looking. Or appetizing. Whatever. I decided not to question.

And then I took the longer but more traffic-y route to Panera. Where I asked for a chocolate chip bagel with butter. And I got it in a nice little, warm bag, and took it back (via the long route) to the office to discover that they did not actually butter my now stone-cold bagel, but just threw in a little pad with a plastic knife so that I might butter a tiny corner of one of the frozen halves, myself.

But I showed them. I ate the whole thing, anyway.

And then I logged on to Facebook to see if anything exciting was happening, and I clicked on the friends part, and it was about to say, “You have no friends online within the last 5 minutes” but it froze in the middle of loading the page, and fucking Facebook told me, “You have no friends….”

The end.