Vending Machine Vendetta

The vending machine in my dorm's lobby has something against me.

My roommate and I don't buy Dr Pepper, though I really couldn't say why-- it'd really save me a fair bit of trouble if we did. Anyway, about once or twice a week, I buy a Dr Pepper from the vending machine. And every time, the machine tries to kill me.

The first time this happened, a Dr Pepper traveling at a high velocity collided with my knee. Fortunately (er... I suppose), the knee that it hit is already injured; there's not much more damage that can be done to it.

But it was still scary as hell.

In the past few months, I've probably had more soda projectiles sent my way that any other person. And I've only recently figured out what I have to do to dodge them.

Now, I insert the dollar bill into the machine, press the Dr Pepper button and dive behind the nearest wall until the whirring of the machine has stopped.

I imagine that the machine is now trying to come up with a way around my plans to thwart it's assaults.

The machine will continue to try to kill me.

...Paranoia is an unfortunate downside of an overactive imagination.