There I was, on the south side of campus, in need of a sugar laden beverage to keep my spirits up before heading to class. That�s when I started walking towards a building that I knew had vending machines. As I was walking, I could hear in my head that sound that carbonated bottles make when you open them � that beautiful exhale of air that promises the bittersweet feel of effervescence that washes away your miseries and renews your spirit. I quickened my pace as I heard that sound over and over in my head.

I opened the door to the Science and Technology Building and was met with the smell of old, stale air and the sounds of the rustling papers of students waiting in the hall for classes. My flip flops smacked the floors of the hallway as I descended down it and came closer to the sign that pointed me to my goal.

I rounded the corner and like a beacon, the light of the machine called to me and the quiet hum calmed my nerves. I fished four shiny quarters out of my bag and before putting them in the machine I took notice of the states printed on them. I put my change into the machine and was greeted with the sound of them hitting all of the other change in the machine. I stood there trying to make a wise decision on my purchase and came to the conclusion that a Fruitopia Strawberry Passion was what would suit me at that very moment so I pressed the little white button to inform the machine of my need. The machine answered me with a red light and the words �SOLD OUT� flashing across its little screen.

I then proceeded to make another selection of Fruitopia Kiwi Berry to which the machine also replied that it was sold out. I was becoming desperate; I began to push all of the buttons and was told the same thing. I hurriedly pushed the change release button and as I heard the quarters drop onto the cold metal my frustration grew. I took my quarters in my hand and started walking back through the hallway I had just descended. I pushed the door of the building open and walked out into the sunshine and clean air. I inhaled the smell of crepe myrtles as I walked, deliberately through the grass to the Johnson Center. The door was still open from someone that had gone through it so my pace did not change. I stalked through the jungle of tables, book bags and people to find the convenience store located at the farther end of the building. Walking in behind two lovers completely enamored with each other and therefore walking at a snails pace, my eyes locked on the gleaming rows of refrigerated lovelies in the back of the store. As I began frantically searching for what I needed, I came to the conclusion that it could not be found.

Crestfallen, I began to feel as if the world was against me. Then I looked to my left and noticed a happy little bottle of lemonade just waiting for someone to love. I opened the slide door to the refrigerator and grasp the neck of the bottle. It wasn�t exactly what I was originally looking for but I loved it just the same and maybe even more.

The moral to this story is: you find love in the most mysterious places AND if you work for a vending machine company for God�s sake, refill it so people don�t have to go through such torture and agony.

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To the facilities folks at GMU-

Hey, I�m not looking for whores or crack, I just want a coke every now and then. I should not have to become a world traveler to get one.

xoxo,

Jenn

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side note: in the south we say 'coke' - doesn't matter if it's Coca-Cola, Dr. Pepper, Sprite, whatever - it's a coke.