After months of malfuntion, the following letter appeared on the office drinks machine this morning:
"Dear Pop Machine Guy or Gal,
It has probably occurred to you that the folks on this floor are a singularly unthirsty bunch. Let me assure you that this is most emphatically not the case. In facet, we’re actually pretty dehydrated. This condition is in part due to the dysfunctional state of this pop machine. It appears that the screw drives which are intended to propel bottles forward into the retrieval device (and ultimately in our waiting hands) are either disconnected or to weak to move an overweight housefly (never mind a 20 oz pop bottle).
While the condition of the machine has slowly deteriorated rendering fewer and fewer selections operative, some selections have never worked. We bet the bottles in those slots are pretty old and nasty by this point.
Please render whatever aid you are able to this machine. Or replace it. Or run it over with a snow plow. We really don’t care anymore."