Since I work nights and don't always feel the urge to bring a sack lunch, and everything downtown is closed for miles around, I will raid the company supported vending machines for sustenance.
We have several machines that deliver product at somewhat discounted prices. Cans of soda are a quarter, half liter bottles are 50 cents. (Did I just say liter?) The usual bags of chips and candy bars are also marked down. Along with all that, we have a refrigerated vending machine that serves ice cream and frozen microwavable foods.
It is the latter machine that draws my ire. I'm not complaining about the nature of the food, after all you get what you pay for when it comes to vended faire. There are some items I really like, such as the bricklike double fudge icecream bar, which no longer exists in the machine for some inexplicable reason.
It would seem to me that the world's supply of double fudge icecream bars is not threatened. I don't think the supply is contaminated with lead or insect pesticides, this is a domestic product and safe for human consumption. The fudge refineries haven't exploded, nor has the recent cold weather affected the fudge trees, so why this high demand item has vanished baffles me. In the place of double fudge icecream sits a long line of pink packaged confection that nobody dares purchase. It looks frightening, a row of captured Strawberry Shortcake clones wrapped in pink and white death shrouds, lurking in the top left corner, doomed to exist in this frozen purgatory at $1.25 each.
The price is too high for experimentation. Other items, similar to double fudge, lack the impact of said doubleness. The single fudge is not as sturdy or solid. When a double fudge falls from the spiral arms of the machine, there is a satisfying thunk. The unitary fudge is a halfhearted slap, lacking the density of it's more palatable cousin. A poor substitute, but if I want any fudge ice cream at all, this is what I must obtain. And I fear that when the supply of standard strength fudge is depleted, then I will have to scour the remains of quarter fudge and microfudge icecreams, and soon it will be homeopathic fudge, otherwise known as vanilla.
I fear we may have reached Peak Fudge. I was promised that new sources of fudge would be located and this would replace the lost supply, but it has been five days and nothing has happened. Our government has not seen fit, nor has had the foresight to legislate a National Fudge Stockpile for these sorts of emergencies. I blame George Bush.
We have several machines that deliver product at somewhat discounted prices. Cans of soda are a quarter, half liter bottles are 50 cents. (Did I just say liter?) The usual bags of chips and candy bars are also marked down. Along with all that, we have a refrigerated vending machine that serves ice cream and frozen microwavable foods.
It is the latter machine that draws my ire. I'm not complaining about the nature of the food, after all you get what you pay for when it comes to vended faire. There are some items I really like, such as the bricklike double fudge icecream bar, which no longer exists in the machine for some inexplicable reason.
It would seem to me that the world's supply of double fudge icecream bars is not threatened. I don't think the supply is contaminated with lead or insect pesticides, this is a domestic product and safe for human consumption. The fudge refineries haven't exploded, nor has the recent cold weather affected the fudge trees, so why this high demand item has vanished baffles me. In the place of double fudge icecream sits a long line of pink packaged confection that nobody dares purchase. It looks frightening, a row of captured Strawberry Shortcake clones wrapped in pink and white death shrouds, lurking in the top left corner, doomed to exist in this frozen purgatory at $1.25 each.
The price is too high for experimentation. Other items, similar to double fudge, lack the impact of said doubleness. The single fudge is not as sturdy or solid. When a double fudge falls from the spiral arms of the machine, there is a satisfying thunk. The unitary fudge is a halfhearted slap, lacking the density of it's more palatable cousin. A poor substitute, but if I want any fudge ice cream at all, this is what I must obtain. And I fear that when the supply of standard strength fudge is depleted, then I will have to scour the remains of quarter fudge and microfudge icecreams, and soon it will be homeopathic fudge, otherwise known as vanilla.
I fear we may have reached Peak Fudge. I was promised that new sources of fudge would be located and this would replace the lost supply, but it has been five days and nothing has happened. Our government has not seen fit, nor has had the foresight to legislate a National Fudge Stockpile for these sorts of emergencies. I blame George Bush.
