Every now and then, I get to work at an offsite location.  Usually, this involves me wandering into what looks like a free cubicle, sitting down, and pretending like I belong.  Self confidence, pass it on.

Yesterday, I had set up shop in my “visiting” cube, which is located among several environmental interns who were chatting about counting turtles (I kid you not).  Having returned from a meeting, I suddenly had an urge for a beverage.  One of those, “Boy is my mouth dry.  I could really use a drink” feeling.  Leaving my laptop among the interns, I headed downstairs to the vending machine.

Back at my usual office, the vending machines have a cool feature.  Put in a large bill and get gold dollars in exchange.  Makes you feel like a real moneybags.  “Hey, look at me, I have a big handful of gold coins.”  Any who, I headed to the vending machines at the offsite location and was intrigued by the vending machine coffee selection.  By the way, vending machine products have a very strong pull on my hankerings at about 3:30PM, so I was particularly vulnerable.  I really needed some poor quality coffee and I needed it bad.  I looked in my wallet and a $20 bill sat alone.  No problem, lots of gold coins and a delicious vending machine coffee on its way.

I fed the $20 bill into the machine.  The bill was slowly pulled in.  The gears of acceptance turned.  Then the expected clanking of coins below.  I glanced down and oh my, the tally was abundant, but something was wrong.  The coins kept coming.  That’s when I noticed it was spitting out quarters and not dollar coins.  Four-to-one ratio.  The coins kept coming.  And coming.  And coming.  I felt like a self conscience casino player.  Except with windows in the room.  A clock on the wall.  And no drinks, with the exception of the vending machine coffee that patiently waited.

After a good minute or two, the machine stopped.  There in the tray sat eighty quarters.  Yes, eighty quarters!  I glanced at the coffee vending machine.  Ah, there was a lovely selection, a “French Vanilla” coffee.  75 cents.

I plugged three quarters into the coffee machine.  The remaining 77 quarters, I shoved in my pockets.

I suddenly looked like I had pockets full of rocks.  I headed back to the intern cubicle farm with my coffee in hand and the sound of many a jangle in my pockets.  I looked like I was concealing two rolls of quarters, which I nearly was, and I sounded like a mobile scrap metal site.

I walked slow.  I did not want to spill my coffee.  I did not want to tip over from the gliding abundance of coins that slowly shifted around in my pockets.

Sitting down, I tried to be as subtle as possible.  I had successfully made it back to the desk without my pants falling down and I was especially thankful for my high quality leather belt.  I tried to casually sip my French Vanilla coffee and not shift around too much.  The slightest move and a small island nation’s GDP would spill out onto the industrial weave carpet.

Somehow, I always imagined that having a fresh coffee and pockets full of cash would produce a better feeling.  Instead, I lived in fear of embarrassment.  In fear of actually coming undone.  Sometimes friends, getting all that you want in life is not all you imagine.  Embrace the now.  Don’t dwell on the future.  Don’t yearn for something else.  Also, make sure to carry small bills.  That’s the way you want to live.