25 Cents
These days I breeze right past them on the way out the door.
Those quarter machines full of clear plastic bubbles encapsulating a variety of tiny plastic Chinese treasures. When I was still new to the world, those machines were a glowing menagerie of the greatest things life had to offer someone in my income bracket (supported by quarters earned by being lower to the ground and keen at spotting them) I would cautiously marvel at all the exciting possibilities laid out, pristine, behind the plexiglass on a colourful card, or *enlarged to show detail in some action-packed futuristic cartoon scenario.
I wonder how many quarters it took me to start understanding the odds of actually getting the GOOD prize - the one your tiny heart was set on - that you would excitedly confirm was actually in the machine by peeking through the back, or through the gaps in the cardboard (maybe other kids wouldn't think to check!). I wonder if there ever really was a chance - or if some downhearted truck driving coin-machine-refill-technician was required by his company to always keep those slightly more precious treasure bubbles floating like fishing lures on the surface, dropping just within reach.
You'd pray to some makeshift God of Luck and twist the bolt - hearing the clockwork mechanism eat your coin into its metal belly - and hold your breath while you opened the flap. Nine out of ten times? The puzzle, the sticker, the lame ring you already had three of, or (God forbid) nothing at all. Harsh buzz for a keen and malleable mind.
"Get used to it kids. For all your good intentions and efforts, life will probably spit you out complete shit. Sure there's always was a chance it wont, but life's a fucking gamble... the important thing is that you spent money, and maybe after you fish for more coins on your hands and knees under dusty machines, panhandle your parents, or set aside your modest allowance, you can try your luck again! ONE day you might just get what you want. Of course, if your hope ever fades, you can always spend that shiny quarter on the lower row of machines and get that instant fix with a tasty hand-full of chemical sugar-high that'll have your little mind wired for the next hour and a half."
It's strange that I'd forgotten about that colourful land of magic machines at the end of every life-altering shopping adventure with mom. Another one of life's little classrooms where we learned about disappointment, regret, and the dangers of hope.