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!
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4 comments:
Oh my geez. I do the same thing. We've got Rainmanvendoritis!
heheheheheh
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!
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.
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