Not only do you have the motherfucking nerve to charge $2.70 for a nestle crunch bar, but open insertion of my hard earned currency, you fail to deliver said exorbitantly priced confectionary. Not only this, but considering how long it took to get the clerical staff to admit my chronically ill progenitor I was correct in doubting that their attention would be adequately focused on this new dilemma.
Subsequent to this thwarting of my attempt to gain endorphin inducing comfort food, I ventured to the hospital cafe in the hope of acquiring some delicious sustenance and time away from staring at the floor in the emergency ward listening to the anecdotes of speed freaks. (Sidenote: no one should ever bother with government sponsored 'kids, don't do drugs videos,' just show them a ten minute video of some toothless guy detailing his colourful medical history and all should be well.) Sadly however, the proprietors of the ingeniously named 'Nescafe cafe' had elected to provide their patrons with a selection of rave music to enjoy with their cardboard and sock flavoured food. I do not use the term 'rave music' erringly, I am an aficiando of electronic music, not some grandma who yells 'that's not music!' as soon as an 808 clap comes within earshot, and this was pill popping, foot stomping, reach for the lasers hands to the ceiling can't stop the feeling let's all get reeling RAVE music.
In a hospital cafe. At 2pm. Like this, only much, much worse:
I've often heard it said that vending machines kill more people every year than sharks. Is it not then time for us to massacre at least one malevolent machine in retribution? People are always worried about computers evolving artificial intelligence and beginning a skynet style war against humanity. I say that's looking in the wrong place. The vending machines of the world are already stealing from and killing our citizens. At the very least, should be not pit these two foes against one another in an en masse battle to the death?
THEY MUST BE STOPPED.
For those of you less inclined to the unsubtle but nonetheless irrefutably effective means of extreme violence, there is the option of placing a simple 'OUT OF ORDER' sign on any and all vending machines in your vicinity. Starved of their lifeblood (money) vending machines will assuredly be forced to move to other habitats in search of sustenance, until eventually resorting to cannibalism and devouring each other in a scene not unlike the finale of the Transformers movie, but with better acting.
2 responses to “Dear vending machine in the emergency ward at the Royal Brisbane hospital: I hate you.”
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