Vending my rage...

People are great, aren’t they? Oh come on – you know they are. I’m not talking about, you know, The Apology, nor even the ordinary every day sort of awesome people who do loads for others without asking anything in return, just to make the world a better place. I’m talking about the dude who helped me batter a vending machine to retrieve a packet of crisps.

Yes, today I suffered that most frustrating of all snacking-related pitfalls. Caught out without my lunch and loathe to sample what the work canteen somewhat optimistically labelled ‘vegetarian noodles’ I put my money into the vending machine in search of some crisps. Just salted thanks. And, of course, the fuckers got stuck. So I put in another $1.80 – intending the packet behind to push it clear. Sooo the second packet got stuck too.

It was about here that I'm ashamed to confess I may have launched into a bit of a tirade, fuelled by low bloody sugar and a now-empty wallet. I may have called the machine, its manufacturer and, dare I say it, the chips themselves, a pile of terrible cunts. As I say, low blood sugar does terrible things to a girl. So as it happens some random guy was passing by and, no doubt shocked and disturbed by my outburst, offered to help me shake the machine. He was wearing sneakers and looked sort of sporty so I accepted the offer. We did that thing where you try to rock it back and forward without looking like a total criminal. The crisps were released. All was good. I bid the kindly fellow good day.

Now you might suppose this is a) merely a story about my own gluttony and b) a disturbing little insight into how I spend my time at work, but I’d argue it’s more than that. Yes that’s right - it’s a flipping metaphor. Hmm, yeah, I know, I know. You see life, I got to thinking, moments after this little incident took place as I wandered back to my desk with two packet of crisps, is often crappy. Shitty things – worse, even, than being denied a packet of crisps – happen all the time. Every day. There aren’t always randoms around to help us beat ten types of shit out of an inanimate object, granted, but, generally speaking, other people are the best things about life and the only thing that really make it worth living. And if you’re not prepared to get to know them, to interact with them, and to love at least a bunch of them, then there’s bugger all point at all.

At the same time, however, it’s worth remembering that it was also a person who designed the incompetent boob of a fucking vending machine in the first place so, you know, contrarily people are also at the root of pretty much everything that’s shit about life too. Just in case you thought I’d turned into an optimist or something.