Wednesday, May 06, 2009

Snacks

Vending machines stress me out. I have to whisper the number over and over to myself. C9. C9. C9. And then slowly, ever so cautiously aim for the button. But this is my fear. What if I suddenly lose control of my arm and it darts over to B12!? AAAAAGH!

4 comments:

Sparkle Plenty said...

Oh my geez. I do the same thing. We've got Rainmanvendoritis!

pork luck said...

heheheheheh

EGE said...

Oh! I saw a vending machine once that sold everything -- shoes and hats and beer and batteries -- but it was so big you had no hope of remembering the numbers!

jeesau said...

I do the same thing. I also compulsively worry that my item will get stuck, despite the little half-moon of plastic they added to the curly-spikes to prevent this.

Lucky Day!

Michelle said that getting pooped on by a bird is good luck. Well, Halleluja! It's my lucky day!