And then there was candy

On the 3rd floor of a dingy, old advertising building sits a giant, gumball-esque candy machine. And in that candy machine sits bin after bin of the chewy, gooey, chocolatey, cavity inducing stuff kids yearn for.

Free to any and all that have access to the building, this candy machine is one of the few perks of a business saturated with unhappy employees. The candy brings an unexpected excitement to the lifeless hallways. "They just refilled the candy bins!" employees exclaim as they awake from their computer coma and dash out of their seats, running towards the elevators and stairs trying to be the first to arrive as if to show off their treasure.

The candy machine first appeared before Halloween. A gift from a client, that employees thought would only stick around for the celebrated candy holiday. But month after month it has remained and day after day it is refilled with different delights even the most ho-hum candy enthusiast cannot resist. From Holiday themed candy like the miniature candy canes to the not-so-traditional carmel chew, this deliverer of candy has become the office saviour.

And so it was mine, yesterday around 2. "I'm starving" I thought to myself. I can't go to lunch yet. My co-workers are all out so I must wait while my stomach screams at me for sustenance. Ahhh! What do I do? Vending machine? Boring. Candy machine? Of course.

Caramel chew, mini Nestle Crunch, mini Candy Cane, Twizzlers, Strawberry Laffy Taffy. Down the gullet in a matter of minutes. I feel ashamed. As if I've cheated on my lunch with a smaller, less healthy and satisfying version of itself. But I am surprisingly full and wanting more. I refrain. My heart is already racing and my vision seems slightly blurred. Oh candy, what you do to me!

But despite it's shaky affect on me the candy machine has proved it's purpose. For a 5 o'clock sugar fix or a hold-me-over-til-lunch snack, this office rallies around it's candy machine. It's our champion. Our trusted friend. A reliable source that will always be there. I cannot remember a day without it and to be frank, I don't want to.