This is the tale of my relationship with Harvest Cheddar Sun Chips.
When I was attending class last fall and winter, the vending machine down the hall carried these chips. To summarize a boring story, I did weekly battle with the vending machine in order to procure a bag. More often than not (substantially more often) the vending machine would win, managing to get my dollar AND keep the Sun Chips. On more than one occasion, that machine took more than one dollar before I finally called it quits.
So, as any rational person would do, I kept going back. Every time I had class. Sometimes, I would come away with three bags of chips because the first two had lodged themselves strategically against the glass. On those occasions, there was still a feeling of disappointment. Somehow, I knew I should be happy. The chips were finally mine! But I couldn't shake the feeling that the vending machine won. I tried to mask my disappointment by calling Russ to tell him of my Sun Chip success.
Now, the Sun Chips have followed me home. I eat Sun Chips for breakfast on Saturday mornings. That vending machine has ruined my life.