I’m a big fan of snacks.
I think they are great and they play a large part in regulating my mood. If we’re meeting friends for dinner and there’s a chance it will be later than is good for me – and by extension anyone else – Jim will make sure I have a pop-tart or two handy. When I get hangry, well, scorned women stay out of my way and my “hell-hath-no” brand of fury.
So, vending machines are a pretty good thing in my book.
Yes, I know that everything in there is over-priced.And yes, I know that everything in there is terrible for me.
I know that – and guess what? I don’t care. There’s a lot of instant gratification in a vending machine. Money in – salty/sweet satisfaction out.
And if it keeps me from a tri-state killing spree – well, then we should all be grateful. Sometimes its not even the biochemical make of the drink or treat – sometimes it’s just about getting something small accomplished. “I would like a beverage and so I go and acquire one”
I noticed something, though, that has made me sad about my friend Mr. Soda Vending.
Back in the day, you could walk past a vending machine and at a glance see if they had the soda you wanted. If you wanted Orange and the Sold Out light was on for the Orange, you had the option of getting Grape instead or to just keep on walking.
Now, though, those soda machines hide their status. You put your money in and hit a button – and only then do you discover your fate. Do you get your beverage of choice – or do you get a Sold Out message? Your money is already in the machine so you can either pick something else or hit the return button and wait while the machine angrily counts out what you hope is the correct change.
It sounds angry, at least.
Then you’ve got to try and fish the quarters back out of the little slot and take your business elsewhere. And if there’s someone waiting, you can also die of embarrassment while you inappropriately grope a robot.
When I first realized this, it pissed me off. Not the robot groping – I figure that’s inevitable when the Robot Uprising (tm) comes along.
No, I was angry about being socially engineered.
There’s a feeling of commitment. The money has already gone in and you expect something in return. And the coin return route feels like failure.
So, you pick something else until you finally get something that you didn’t even really want because now it feels like obligation. You have to succeed at some level – and so they get a sale even if they are out of the product.
I’ve had this happen at stores – I’m looking at you, Radio Shack. Windows full of products and shelves mysteriously empty. We settle for the thing we didn’t really want just to have some measure of success. So it doesn’t feel like a complete waste of time.
I’m ranging farther afield now with my pocket full of quarters. Searching for that toxic diet soda that will somehow keep me distracted enough to get through the day. And not settling for grape when I really want orange.
It takes a lot of paying attention to see where that social engineering lives. And effort to fight back against the faceless invokers of that engineering.
But, there’s some satisfaction in that as well. Little goals, little successes.