I don't belong in Vegas.

OH MY GOD WE'RE OUT OF EGGO WAFFLES AND CHEERIOS AT WORK WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON

At least we still have honey. And tomorrow is restock day, thank heavens. I once again got through the workday with only my usual Diet Dr. Pepper.

Also, we got the rare (okay actually not so rare because apparently that machine is a piece of crap, a piece of crap that EATS MY QUARTERS GIVE IT BACK WAAAAHHHH) chance to play Plinko with our beverage vending machine because one of the orange juice bottles got stuck between the glass and one of the racks below. Considering that drinks are only 50 cents, I decided to make the gamble: buy another appropriately-positioned orange juice so that it would hit the stuck one and hopefully get it out, thus rewarding me with TWO orange juices for the price of one. But which one to pick? Much like that old favorite of mine The Price Is Right with my man Bob Barker (FUCK YOU DREW CAREY YOU WITLESS SON OF A BITCH), some of the interns standing around started yelling indiscernable suggestions to me: "A1! A1!" "No, get A2! You gotta hit it from the side! A2!" "B1! Hit it straight on!" Overwhelmed, I blocked out all their suggestions and examined the situation: the bottle was stuck right in front of A1, so if I got A1, the most likely result would be BOTH of them getting stuck. However, it was just slightly to the right enough such that a bottle dispensed from A2 would definitely hit the bottle and thus increase the chances of knocking it out. Any options from the row below were out of the question. So A2 it was.

I only got one orange juice. Vegas would LOVE me.