Monday, April 22, 2013

The Heavy Vending Machine: The knobby pickle

You would think I would apologize for not having written about vending machine food for a great many months, but I won't. I've been focused on reducing the amount of processed, preserved garbage I cram into my schwa hole. It's good for my health, and I've noticed the skidmarks in my Fruit of the Looms are fading each week. Thanks, natural eating and Tide for Poop Stains®! Never fear, however, because I will continue to occasionally be drawn to foods so disgusting, disturbing, or in today's case, merely curious, that I will temporarily set aside my well-being for your brief amusement. A huge, literal pickle spinning in the wheel of death sounds like just the ticket.

Before we get to the technical specifications of this particular pickle, let's meditate upon the concept of a vending company deciding to stock an office vending machine with not just one, but numerous individually packaged pickles.

Interior -- monthly vending machine pitch meeting (because vending machine selections are OBVIOUSLY pitched to a board of directors like sales slogans and liquor billboards):

Sam, an up and coming vending machine product whiz, in snappy slacks and a sharp, colorful dress shirt, no tie, and sleeves rolled up to the elbows: "Ladies and gents, do you know what cubicle dwellers like? Sure, a stale chicken sandwich or discount egg salad sandwich goes down smooth with a Dr Pepper or Rockstar. But what if amid the microwave meals, bean burritos, and single serving Kraft Macaroni and Cheese bowls, we included a fresh breeze, no, a REVOLUTION, in vending machine options. Friends and colleagues, I'm talking, of course, about giant individually packaged pickles. HUGE pickles. Like seriously -- Big. God. Damned. Pickles. Gary Busey couldn't bite the end off without a lateral approach vector. That's how big these fucking pickles are. And we don't whet curiosity with one or two of these bad boys. We devote at least a quarter of the available vending slots to these motherfuckers. Are we putting our eggs in one basket? Yes! Because these are golden eggs laid by a golden cucumber goose. Ladies and gentlemen, I -- shutup, Tom, a cucumber goose is a thing -- I give you, a shitload of pickles in a vending machine!"

Standing ovation, tears wiped away from the eyes of an attractive, bespectacled middle aged female executive in a smart pantsuit, and SCENE!

Oh, you think I'm being over the top with my pickle pitch scenario, but check out this snazzy packaging. With the vibrant green of the illustrated pickle, ejaculating viscous brine at high velocity from every pore of its knobby skin for some reason, can you not see why Sam was whipped into such a frenzy? And as if the all caps "DILL PICKLE" label and drawing of a jizzing cuke wasn't enough, right there, we are told what we're dealing with. "Contents: One Pickle" THAT'S WHAT TIME IT IS, FOLKS! Time for a hearty dill pickle the size of an engorged horse cock floating in vacuum-sealed, vinegary brine! If I had spoken that into a microphone, I would have dropped the fucking thing and walked off stage left, hands in the air because I DO care! About pickles. In bags of vinegar and salt. Smell that sandwich, son?

Before I even opened the pickle at my desk, I was presented with a dilemma. What do I do with the brine? Do I get up, walk back to the break room where the vending machines are, and dump the brine in the sink? Go to the mens room and pour it out into the toilet? What if the pickle slips out with the brine and falls in the shitter? Do I leave that floating there? What kind of dietary questions would someone finding that raise? And I don't think this thing's going to flush without a fight. How do you break up a pickle with a toilet plunger? Because you know what isn't going to get soggy and dissolve eventually in toilet water? A crunchy pickle that's been sitting in a sack of salty piss since Reagan was shot. You either roll up a sleeve and pull that out or get a knife and fork, because this situation isn't resolving itself. Are you going to be that asshole who leaves a green pickle floating in the toilet like a bloated, mossy badger corpse for the cleaning crew? Because I sure as hell am not!

Suffice it to say, I made the wrong decision about where to dispose of the brine. Word to the wise, take it to a sink and don't just dump it into the trash can at your desk. I'm going to be whiffing rank dill for the rest of the day, if not week. Actually that's a terrible word to the wise. Word to the wise, don't eat a pickle out of a vending machine at your desk or anywhere. The 11th Commandment, that one is. "Thou shalt not fellate yon brined cucumber from a mechanized food dispensary... eth"

Really at this point, the review of the pickle is a foregone conclusion, isn't it? It was predictably awful. I managed two bites, and threw the rest in the trash. And I say this as a cat who genuinely digs a good pickle. But get your pickles from your mom's shelves of garden preserves, or failing that, a nice Gedney or deli pickle. If you need me to tell you not to eat a pickle out of a vending machine, I'm of no help to you at all, because I can't show up at your house every morning to help you wipe your ass, put on your clothes, and tie your shoes. You've already been wandering the world unhelmeted long enough for your neighbors to realize you're never going to notice the entire roll of toilet paper you've been dragging around on your shoe for the few weeks. But no worries, a vending machine pickle won't kill you. Your regular smoke breaks by open containers of paint thinner will. Hugs then!

Product: Van Holten's Hearty Dill Flavor Pickle
Price: $1.00
Taste: Briny:
Texture: Refrigerated premie fetus
Party: All night

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