When it comes to reporting the news, nothing gets in the way of a journalist. Not wind nor rain; sleep nor cold or a slow internet connection. In fact, the only thing that can impede the work of a journalist is hunger. Editors, publishers and newspaper companies multinational conglomerates are aware of this journalistic kryptonite. That is why in nearly every newsroom exist devices that make news reporting possible - vending machines.
All journalists, at one point or another, have missed meals waiting for call backs or rushing to meet deadline. And when there isn't time to eat a "real" meal such as Wendy's or Taco Bell between assignments, a journalist's best friend is the humming vending machine in the break room.
Every newsroom break room has one. And while they may look a little different, most vending machines contain similar snacks that fuel a journalist who is working on a 50-inch story on childhood obesity.
The staple favorites include: chips, "cheese" crackers, Snickers bars, peanuts, popcorn, and the classic Ramen Noodles that only poor college students and journalists will touch.
Then, conveniently next to the snack machine is the soda machine. Here, journalists who just returned from covering a three-hour council meeting on annexing a 20-foot sidewalk find liquid courage in the form of caffeine.
When the coffee pot has long run dry, journalists will fish the remaining loose change from their pockets and bank accounts to buy a Coke or Pepsi. However, recently a new option has crept into the soda vending machines - energy drinks.
Now weary-eyed journalists can buy 20-ounce cans of liquid crack with names like Monster, Red Bull, Rockstar or Frenetic Heart Attack. The majority of typos journalists make can be attributed to such energy drinks because they were violently shaking while writing the story.
Inevitably, more so than any other vending machine anywhere else, buying a snack or drink on deadline is like playing Russian roulette. There is a one in six chance, so a 60 percent chance according to journalism math, the journalist will get what they paid for. Sometimes the machine just magically gobbles up the journalist's last dollar leaving them to resort to trying to fill up on candy from various disease-infested dishes around the office. Other times, the machine will jam inexplicably leading to a violent tirade laden with expletives.
Since journalists write for a living, often they will write a long snide note saying something along the lines of, "this machine has robbed (insert name here) if I am not reimbursed by the end of the day, there will be hell to pay."
