All I can think to do at the table is stare at the bright orange Reeses' cups package and the Payday bars illuminated by light from the vending machine. I sit, wondering whether they drip
inside their package. My arm drips to my pocket. I bring money to the table, ready to decide just what is it that I want to buy. I prefer Reeses', but it's been long since I've tasted the light caramel and crunchy peanut of a Payday.
This decision would be easy if I had a Payday. As it stands, my money is dripping. If it's any indication of how light my wallet is, I can barely bring one back to the table. It's a tough decision. I've been craving Reeses' for weeks. I haven't decided, but this is it.
I walk up to the machine. I'm done sitting, It's a question of this or that. Payday? Heads. I reach in my pocket. Tails, Reeses'. I manage the quarter out. How could I know I'd rip a dollar in the process? Back to the table for damage control. The tear was light
enough not to be serious, just a slight rip. It's easier to flip a coin while you sit anyway. I toss it in the air and it lands on the table. Heads. I smiled, my decision was made. Payday. I walk back to the machine and drop coins in, not making eye contact with the Reeses'.
As I get up, I feel terrible. I've betrayed the Reeses' cups I've enjoyed since I was a child, the delight that kept me going when there wasn't a drip of tea left. I think I'll go downstairs to sit and eat my new sugary master, the Payday. This time I pass by, not return to, the table.
I look back, past the table, at the orange Reeses' packages, then glance at my Payday. It's light, I won't have to sit to eat it. Ashamed, my eyes drip.