The Dangling Chad of Vending

Yesterday was a long day at work, extended an extra couple of hours beyond the normal 5pm by a real estate closing. I decided to keep a positive attitude about the whole working-late-to-accommodate-clients thing, and treat myself to the yummy goodness that can only be found in a bag of Peanut M&Ms.

I climbed 2 flights of stairs to the vending machine instead of taking the elevator, in order to justify the extra calories.  But let’s face it, I really didn’t need to do this because we ALL know that Peanut M&Ms are a solid source of protein, and that makes them health food. BONUS!

85 cents for a bag of M&Ms?!?! OMG since WHEN are M&Ms a high priced commodity? I remember when you could get a bag of M&Ms for…oh wait, we just won’t go there. I fork up the dough and put in the code and then WHAT?! So disappointed…I was trapped in some parallel universe where my every happiness for the next 2 hours was driven by the outcome of a scandal equivalent to a “dangling chad” of vending!

Isn't it amazing how even the most non-violent of people can so quickly become the incredible hulk against an inanimate object witholding sweet treasures? Why?  Why?!

 So I did what any other rational human being would do. I Googled for an answer to my problem. Needless to say, the answer was less than desirable. And yes, there were many articles offering advise on how to properly dislodge candy from a  rigged rebellious machine.   I thought I was gonna get some kind of insider information like secret codes to punch in, or the location of a hidden rest button that would refund my money.  I was left slightly disappointed with the advise that I found.  You can read one here ~ How to Free a Stuck Item from a Vending Machine

Oh REALLY? You mean if I pay an extra 85 cents and purchase ANOTHER bag of M&Ms it will inevitably push out the first one? Well why didn’t I think of that? Oh what’s that you say? It may NOT work? So another viable option would be to find someone with a key to the vending machine for assistance? Really? What a revelation!

Despite my sarcastic mutterings in response to the advise-for-people-with-no-common-sense-whatsoever, I chose to follow that advise, and I purchased a second bag of candy. Today as I snack on these unwanted M&Ms, I cannot help but be left with a somewhat bittersweet taste in my mouth. No, not because of the combination of chocolate coated by a candy shell encompassing a rotten peanut, but because I did not choose this second bag of M&Ms…it chose me. And I can’t help but question its motive.

Stamping out ignorance

Nila, my co-worker, recently began researching the assets for a succession our office is working on this week. Occasionally she asks me questions regarding procedures and protocol, but for the most part, she is on her own in the process. The succession is riddled with various stock certificates and life insurance policies from the 1940s which makes the preliminary work all the more difficult. At one point this morning Nila walks into my office with a furrowed brow and photocopy in hand.


Recreation of the inquiry



Nila: "What are these stamps?"

Me: "What do you mean?"

Nila: "When you copied the Cash Sale Deed, what were these stamps copied on the same page?"

Me: "Let me see that…they’re just stamps on the cover page of the deed. Maybe the clerk’s office mailed it somewhere."



Nila: "No, they aren’t NORMAL stamps, their SPECIAL stamps. You think they are collector’s stamps?"

Me: "No way…collector’s stamps? I think someone just mailed something somewhere."

Nila: "You never know. They could be worth millions. I use to collect stamps. They weren’t worth millions. But these could be!"

Me: "Surely not."



Our boss walks in at this moment and we brief him on the current discovery session and conversation.

Tudor: "Did you figure out what they are?"

Me: "Nila just Googled it. Are they some sort of receipt?"

Tudor: "Not really. Back in the old days you use to have to pay a state tax on real estate transactions, that’s what those stamps are for. It helped keep people in check when declaring the value of their property."



Non-productive history lesson for the day: Not regular mailing stamps, not collector’s items worth millions…just taxes.

Politickin' Folk

We are very fortunate at my office to be located on the same floor as the Congressman for our district. Over the last sixteen months of my employment at my office, I have wondered what topics of discussion would arise should I ever have the opportunity to get to know the Congressman in passing. Of course, due to his numerous schedule obligations at our state Capitol and in Washington D.C., he has been limited in his time at his “home office”, and although I have gotten to know some of his dedicated staff over time, I had not had the opportunity to meet him in person…until today.


There we were my boss, my co-worker Nila, and I, all leaving the office a few minutes after 5pm and heading toward the elevator, when we were intercepted in the hall by none other than the Congressman himself and a few members of his staff. Immediately my boss, in true fashion excitedly says, “Look girls! It’s our congressman! Rodney, I don’t believe you have met my assistants, Nila and Abby.” The elevator doors open and several of the people from our floor pile in herd style.

I find myself in the rear of the elevator with the Congressman standing right in front of me with his back to me to save room. This would probably be the best time to mention that he is probably about 6 foot 6 inches and wearing a dark suit. I was staring directly at an enormous WALL of microfiber blend and feeling a bit crowded. I was distracted from the potential onset of a claustrophobic panic attack by the conversation that ensued between the occupants of the elevator.

My Boss (with a comical demeanor directed at the Congressman): “We’re not gonna find any naked pictures of you on the internet, are we?”

Congressman: “Nah, there’s no money in naked pictures on the internet.”

Woman standing beside the Congressman: “We wouldn’t want another ‘WEINER’ roast now would we?”



Yep, that just happened.

On my way through the parking lot I thought to myself, “So THIS is what “We the People” want to discuss with our representatives.”

I love working with my boss because he reminds me occasionally that life shouldn’t be taken too seriously…and my Congressman is pretty cool, too.