Do You Want to Know How Insane I Am? Do You?

There is a snack food that I love, and I am aware of only one other person who actually likes them (my sister-in-law). I'd think that there'd be more.

These:

Eat me.

Most people like the chocolate ones. I enjoy the chocolate cupcakes very much, but if given the choice? Orange all the way. The majority of people also think that the orange cupcakes are disgusting. I think that they need to obtain a more refined palate.

Anyway, the museum's vending machines were finally replenished, and to my excitement and delight, there were THREE ROWS of orange cupcakes. It was amazing.

But I soon realized that the museum's basement had become my own personal hell.

Ninety cents is not a bad price for snacks, and I wanted them. The machine? It would not give them to me. "INVALID CHOICE," it said. And I was all, "YOU DON'T KNOW ME, MACHINE!"

(The situation was tense, you see. It was reminiscent of this fateful day.)

So I called the phone number on the vending machine. The poor lady at the call center in no way made fun of me and my insatiable need for over-processed sugar and carbohydrates, and she promised to send a repairman straight away.

She was a liar.

Right, so to recap, I am insane.