Machine B-7 at the Oakfield Mall: One Star. I Am Pressing Charges.
I arrived at Machine B-7 with a coupon. A valid coupon, printed on quality paper, clipped with intention, carried in a dedicated coupon sleeve that I have maintained since the early days of my career. I was prepared. I was ready. I was, frankly, excited. Machine B-7 did not care.
The slot — and I want this on record — spat it back at me. Not once. Not twice. Four times. On the fifth attempt, the machine made a sound I can only describe as contemptuous. A mechanical sigh. As if I were the one with a problem. I have been asked to leave seven hotels, three convenience stores, and one funeral, and in every case there was at least the dignity of a human face delivering the news. Machine B-7 offered me nothing but a blinking red light and the quiet violence of a rejected transaction.
The selection was also, frankly, an embarrassment. Three varieties of chip, a granola bar with the structural integrity of loose gravel, and a beverage called "Citrus Splash" that I suspect was commissioned directly by the so-called workers over at factjuice.com as some kind of taunt. Mango and Lime's fingerprints are all over that label. I will not be purchasing it.
Machine B-7 earns one star, and that star is awarded exclusively to the reflection I caught of myself in the glass — composed, dignified, wronged. The machine itself deserves nothing. My coupon was good. My coupon remains good. I will return.