I don't buy candy bars. I used to buy them when I was a child. I preferred Milky Ways because they gave me more for the nickel - and I could actually buy one for a nickel. But I loved all of the Big Ones. Baby Ruth. Hershey's. I would buy them one at a time with my allowance, and later I would buy packages at the supermarket - twelve to a pack, as I recall - with my mother's grocery money.

Ah yes, I was a thief. I did the grocery shopping starting in about seventh grade and part of the rewards of that little chore was these bags of candy bars. And the stops at Doncker's for sundaes. Of course my mother did not know about these things. Sometimes we had Eggs Goldenrod to make up for my passions, because that's a cheap dish.

I don't buy them now, as an adult. That little conscience thing or my Better Self or just some sort of neurosis tells me no. There are exceptions. Like now. Today, as part of my string of vending machine betrayals, I went for a candy bar. A Baby Ruth. Only it got hung up on the little twisty thingy and would not come loose. So I had to (had to!) put five more quarters in the ripoff machine and get a second one. I got both then.

Did I mention that I tried for a pepsi earlier and put a ten dollar bill in and the machine ate it? Yeah. I had to go to the office to get it back. I think I have irritated everyone on duty by now, because I am always wanting change for those machines. And they tend not to have any. Which leads me to think - why don't they have a change machine? I have no answer.

I ate both Baby Ruths. Who else was going to?