I scam vending machines.

There's a particular vending machine that calls my name, figuratively speaking, and I listen. It sits along a small entrance hall to a building we call the Alumni Center, and it's simply diverse with the pleasures of the world: chocolates, sweet and sour candies, chips that are cheesy, chips that are spicy, and oh, the amount of gum you can choose from! There's enough to fare for the world, one could say, but it only seems to call my name, and no one else'. Not that I'm addicted to treats, but because I have a gift, one that I'm willing to share with everyone.

I have the power to scam vending machines.

Honestly, I'm not sure how I do it. It starts while I'm scanning the rows and columns of treats, and each time, a particular item seems to glow, drawing me to it, and I have a knack (a certain synergy with the machine in question, if you will) of knowing that if I purchase that item, not only will the foremost item fall, but the next item will fall with it. Who would complain, I ask? It's more pleasing to hear two thuds from falling candy rather than one, if I must say, and I take both as though I knew it was bound to happen (and yes, after the second time, I did know), feeling victorious, feeling satisfied with the world as we know it.

But what would you do? Would you eat the second candy? I had the first time; I couldn't help myself, I was overwhelmed with the phenomenon. The second time rolled around and, behold, I ate both treats. No one is accusing me of being selfish simply because I scammed a machine. No; it runs deeper than that, at least I assume, and ultimately, it's our decision in the end that makes us who we are. I was feeling elated at first, even at second (if that makes sense), but the third time I scammed that machine, I left the second candy lay at the bottom, taking a second to realize what I was doing, and left the premise. It was another two days before I returned to the building for a Journalism course I was taking, and I only remembered what I had done when I felt the synergy: the vending machine was calling my name. I knew what I was supposed to do, so I walked before the machine, staring intently.

The candy still laid there. Either I had either established something great that we can only explain to ourselves, or no one else is as hungry as I am, the vending machine scammer.