Few thins break a young man's heart as much as a broken dollar slot. Some of them include: pregnancy scares, nuclear winter, castration, being fired, having food poisoning and poi (side note, don't misspell "Poi" as "Poy" and do an image search at work. They should really do some kind of web-filtering. Sweet Jesus).But a broken dollar slot is a fate worse than any of the above almost (but not really), as it promises to make one's trek to a vending machine futile.
Who carries change aside from drifters and those who supply drifters with change? Not I. Not I.
When the dollar slot is broken, the universe is telling you not to eat unhealthy foods. Perhaps. Or perhaps it is saying something more.
That you will one day break down. That your heart is made of glass like that Blondie song or that your stomach will not be quenched with empty calories and endless chewing.
True fact,t he average vending machine snack requires 3,000 more chews than a salad. Unless it is a snail salad. Snail salad requires more chews than Charleston Chew. When I went to Charleston, South Carolina, I walked around with a Charleston Chew in my hand the whole time and pointed and winked at strangers as I took bites. No one winked back. They wore suits though. Same thing.
Anyway...what's the point.
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