She typed the last few numbers with a flourish and hit "Process." While the computer churned, she leaned back in her seat and stretched, wriggling her fingers. Another set of data entry finished. At this rate, she would be caught up by tomorrow.

Glancing at the clock, she reached into her back pocket and fished out her wallet. She drew out the best-looking one dollar bill she had, grabbed a radio unit, patted her pocket for a second, and walked out into the dusky evening.

The sun hadn't yet set, but the clouds cast an eerie blue glow over everything. The day's miserly rain still spotted the ground, leaving pools of murky brown water in places here and there. She sighed, seeing that the large bits of bird poop were still stuck firmly to her car. One of these days she planned to come out here with a Super Soaker water gun and a jug of bleach, just to get rid of the chunks on the ground.

The automatic doors hummed open at her approach, and she stepped inside, dodging Dodge vans and Ford buses. Again, the drivers had parked all willy-nilly in the garage. Yay. She grimaced as she walked by one particularly crooked van.

Through another small door was the object of her quest; the snack machines. She reached her hand into her pocket and drew out a nickel. This is perfect, she thought. I have just enough money to get a snack and a pop. $1.05. Perfect.

Since the pop machine did not have a dollar changer, she approached the snack machine first. The machine sucked her dollar in readily. She noticed that the machine was different from yesterday; the previous machine ate dollars like they were candies. Finally, someone had switched machines. Hopefully, this one worked.

She examined her options in the 55-cent category, and punched in "E8". The machine whirred, the corkscrew turned, and a bag of M&Ms fell into the slot. Perfect. Chink! Chink! Chink! One hand retrieved the snack while the other got the change.

Standing up straight, she noticed that something was amiss. She held only 40 cents in her hand. A quick check of the price showed 55-cents for the M&Ms. Another swift count showed only 40 cents in her hand.

"Hey!"

Pulling on the change return knob did nothing. Ditto for kicking the machine and obscenities. Candy without pop! It just wouldn't work!

After a few moments, she turned on her heel and stomped back into the messy garage, then into the evening air. Muttering under her breath, she yanked open her car's door and rooted around in the change tray. Pennies... Pennies... Pennies...

A nickel! She stood up in excitement and struck her head on the roof of the car.

"Ow!"

She stood up more slowly and half-ran back into the garage. Quibbling with the snack machine over a nickel could wait until later. Her radio show was on and she was thirsty! After jamming the M&Ms into a pocket, she dropped a coin into the coin slot.

Chink!

She stared at the quarter lying in the coin return. "No way," she whispered, her mouth watering pitifully. She tried the dime and all three of the nickels.

Chink! Chink! Chink! Chink!

The change wasn't even getting into the machine. On a whim, she hit the Diet Coke button on the off chance someone had already put money into the machine. Nothing happened. She slid the change return button. Nothing happened. Again, she attempted to give the machine money, but it spit it right back out at her.

"This isn't happening," she moaned.

She was in the process of getting medieval on the machine's ass when she heard a polite cough behind her. She turned and saw the night mechanic watching her with amusement. "Problem?" he asked.

"It won't take my money!" she growled, giving the machine a kick. "See?"

She slipped the quarter into the slot. With amazement, she listened as it made the muted, distinctive clink of the coin going into the vault. She tried again with the dime. It took it, and all the nickels as well.

The mechanic nodded to himself. "Um, looks like it took your money."

"But it didn't a second ago," she said, giving the machine a dirty look. She pressed the Diet Coke button and was rewarded with an ice cold aluminum can.

"Uh huh," he said and wandered off with a smile on his lips.

She stood before the machine for another beat. Drawing her lips back, she opened her mouth and hissed at the red and white device. Then she walked back to the trailer, already sipping at the bubbly pop.

I have never gotten along well with vending machines.