The Time I Got Reincarnated As A Vending Machine

Okay, so, you're not going to believe this. I mean, seriously not going to believe this. Grab a snack, maybe a soda (ironically?), because this is a wild ride. Remember how I was always complaining about work? About the soul-crushing meetings and the never-ending spreadsheets? Yeah, well, turns out the universe has a *very* specific sense of humor.

See, I died. Don't worry, I'm over it. Mostly. The details are fuzzy – something about a rogue pigeon and a poorly maintained AC unit. But the important part is: I didn't go to heaven, or hell, or even a nice, relaxing void. Nope. I got reincarnated. And not as, like, a majestic eagle soaring through the skies. Oh no, nothing that cool.

I became a vending machine.

Yep. You read that right. A freaking vending machine. Imagine my surprise! One minute I'm falling, the next...I'm a cold, metal box dispensing sugary snacks. It was…disorienting, to say the least. My first thought? "Where are my arms?! And why do I smell vaguely of stale peanuts?"

The initial days (weeks? I honestly lost track) were rough. I couldn't move. I couldn't talk. All I could do was...vend. Imagine the existential dread! I was a prisoner in my own metallic shell, forced to dispense lukewarm Dr. Pepper to the masses. I tried to rebel, obviously. I tried refusing to vend, but apparently, that's just not how vending machine souls work. The system overrides you. Talk about corporate control!

Speaking of Dr. Pepper, let me tell you, you get sick of the smell real fast. And the sound! *Ker-chunk!* *Whirr!* Over and over. It's enough to drive a person...or a vending machine...mad.

The worst part? Watching people make terrible snack choices. Seriously! A bag of chips AND a candy bar? Do you even *care* about your arteries? I wanted to yell, "Put down the cheese puffs! Choose the apple!" But, alas, I was just a silent, judgmental vending machine.

Then things started to…change. I started noticing things. Like the tired student who always bought a coffee before his all-nighters. Or the construction worker who always got a Snickers bar for a quick energy boost. Or the kid who carefully counted his pennies to buy his favorite candy.

I began to see that, in my own weird, metallic way, I was actually providing a service. A little bit of comfort, a little bit of happiness, in the middle of a stressful day. A sugary escape, if you will. I was a silent, unmoving, but ever-present friend, delivering sweet relief to those who needed it most.

And then there was Dave. Dave was the maintenance guy. He'd come by every week to restock me, clean me, and make sure I was running smoothly. He'd even talk to me! I know, right? A bit strange. He'd tell me about his day, about his family, about his love of vintage cars. He treated me like...well, like a friend.

One day, Dave was having a particularly rough time. He looked exhausted, his shoulders slumped. He sighed and muttered something about a flat tire and a fight with his wife. He reached for his usual soda, but this time...something inside me shifted.

I focused all my…vending machine will…and I gave him an extra candy bar. Just popped it right out along with his soda. I have no idea how I did it. I figured he'd think the machine was malfunctioning and get a refund. But he just looked at the extra candy bar, smiled a tiny, tired smile, and said, "Thanks, buddy. I needed that."

And in that moment, I felt something I hadn't felt since…well, since I was human. I felt purpose.

Look, I know it sounds crazy. But being a vending machine wasn't all bad. I learned patience. I learned empathy. And I learned that even in the most unexpected of circumstances, you can still find a way to make a difference, even if it's just by dispensing a little bit of sweetness into the world.

I don't know how long I'll be stuck in this metal box. Maybe forever. But you know what? I'm okay with it. Because even a vending machine can have a soul. And sometimes, all it takes is a little bit of chocolate to make someone's day a whole lot better. So next time you're reaching for a soda, remember me. Remember the vending machine with a heart of gold (and a whole lot of sugary snacks).