#software vending machine

[theeleventhsignofthezodiac]

Unknown Photographer

Cumma Corporation MetaWriter software vending machine, 1983.

[vendekin11]

Analysis, Benefits, And Challenges For a Profitable Vending Machine Business in India

Many say, “Starting a Vending Machine Business is easy.” Is it? While starting any business, one always considers their risk-bearing capacity and invests accordingly. As for the vending machine business, that risk margin is very low. Since the success rate of starting a vending venture is very high, it is a lucrative business opportunity with huge profit potential. However, like any business, it requires careful analysis, planning, and execution.

So if you are thinking of leveraging this opportunity, this is a good place to start. In this blog, we will dive deep into the cost of starting a vending machine business in India, the investment analysis, the benefits, and the challenges that might trouble the business along the way.

Cost Analysis of Starting a Vending Machine Business in India

Many of you might be thinking, "How is the risk margin so low when this modern-day business demands a huge upfront investment?" That is because this investment pays off—big time! Let’s break it down to understand it better.

Vending Machine Price in India

The cost of vending machines in India starts from ₹1,00,000. This is for the base models that are popularly used for dry snacks. When you add beverages to the product list, temperature control becomes essential. This adds approximately ₹40,000 of cost along with the added features like a smart interface to place the order. Based on your product requirements, the quantity you wish to store, the customisations, and the size of the vending machine affect its price.

Additional Costs

Investing in a vending machine business doesn’t end with buying the vending machine. You should also consider additional expenses like installation costs, repairs, maintenance fees, and inventory. Apart from these, if there are any rental costs applicable for the place to set up the vending machine, an added provision for the same is essential.

ROI Expectations

The return on investment for a vending machine business in India depends on various factors, including the machine's location and the products it offers. On average, a strategically placed vending machine can allow you to recover your initial investment in approximately 10 to 14 months. Any revenue generated beyond this period represents your profit.

Benefits of Investing in an Automatic Vending Machine Business

A vending machine is synonymous with convenience. It offers ease to both businesses and consumers. With changing lifestyles, the demand for on-the-go purchases is rising, and so is the vending machine business. Given that, let’s explore the benefits it brings to the table.

24/7 Revenue Generation: With vending machines, there are no store hours or after-hours. The machines run round the clock and so does your business.

Minimal Staff Requirements: The operational costs involved in starting a vending machine business in India are significantly low as compared to traditional retail stores as it cuts major expenses like labour costs due to automation.

Wide Range of Products: Leading automatic vending machine suppliers, such as Vendekin, provide customisation options tailored to your product needs, allowing you to sell both popular and niche products.

Prime Locations: The strategic placement at the best locations for vending machines can directly lead to maximising profits. These are generally the high-footfall areas like offices, schools, colleges, malls, transport hubs, etc.

Challenges Involved in Running a Vending Machine Business in India

Like every business, the vending machine business in India comes with its own set of challenges. Let’s take a look at these obstacles.

Initial Setup Costs: Despite the vending machine's profitability, the initial purchase and installation setup costs are considerably high.

Maintenance and Repairs: Starting a vending machine business might be easy but running one comes with regular repairs and maintenance to ensure smooth operations. A broken vending machine at a high-traffic location can lead to consumer disappointment and financial loss.

Location Dependency: Spotting the best locations to set up a vending machine is easy, but securing them depends on various factors such as rental costs.

Competition: Vending machines are a flourishing business in India and the high-traffic areas often attract many vending machine operators fuelling the competition.

Inventory Management: Popular items running out of stock very quickly are a common conflict amongst consumers. Efficient management of inventory by ensuring stock availability and avoiding wastage could be challenging at times.

Many Challenges, One Solution: Vendekin’s Smart Vending Machines

Vendekin is your ideal vending partner, as it understands and addresses business challenges with cutting-edge solutions. From purchase to after-sales, we provide support at every step. From vending machine maintenance tips to providing end sites i.e., securing the best locations to set up your vending machine—we have got you covered. With our smart vending machine management software you can track and manage your inventory - anytime, anywhere! We are dedicated to providing the best in the market - automatic smart vending machines that give you an edge over the competitors.

Conclusion

The automatic vending machines business in India is a promising business venture making the initial investment worthwhile. All you have to do is analyse, strategise, plan and execute. If you think you’re ready to take the plunge, we at Vendekin are here to help you at every step of the way. Explore our range of vending machines, get in touch for the customisations and get started on your entrepreneurial journey. Good luck!

[antmyerp]

Maintaining coffee vending machines is vital for customer satisfaction, but it can be time-consuming and affect service quality. Field software streamlines operations by integrating real-time scheduling, inventory management, and automated communication, reducing downtime and enhancing satisfaction. Challenges like breakdowns, scheduling issues, inventory management, and communication gaps are addressed efficiently. Key features include optimized technician scheduling and real-time inventory tracking. With field management software, vending machine companies can provide efficient maintenance and repair services.

[saffusthings]

second chances

mob boss! lando norris x reader

part seventeen: dream a little dream of me

word count: 1.6k

warnings: tooth-rotting fluff

sixteen | seventeen | eighteen

The second date should’ve felt more awkward. It didn’t.

Alex had picked a science museum of all places—not exactly romantic on paper, but the look on his face when he pointed out the replica Mars rover was too earnest to judge. He had this habit where his whole face would light up like a lightbulb the moment before he got excited about something, and Y/N had already learned to clock it like a warning siren.

“So, technically,” he was saying, hands jammed in his jacket pockets as they strolled past a massive display on deep-sea robotics, “the algorithms used for this submersible’s sensor mapping were adapted from AI software developed for self-driving cars.”

“Technically,” she echoed, teasing, “you should probably just work here.”

He looked sideways at her with a crooked grin. “I applied when I was sixteen. They didn’t take me.”

“They’re clearly still recovering from that mistake.”

He tried to play it off cool, but she caught the slight flush of his ears.

She liked him more than she expected to. Not in the way you decide to like someone—more like how you step outside one day and realize the air smells like rain and suddenly, you’re soft and open and all the windows are down. He was like that: unexpected and quiet and warm around the edges.

They made their way through the rest of the exhibits in no particular order, weaving between dwindling crowds of families and groups of students on field trips, neither of them in a hurry. He let her take her time at the forensic anthropology section, where she ran her fingers along the raised edges of a reconstructed skull, and she let him lose himself in the physics wing, where he explained, with ridiculous enthusiasm, why the double pendulum was so cool. It was there that the nickname Professor Albon was born.

At some point, he took her hand. It wasn’t a big deal. He just did it naturally, without hesitation, like it had already been a habit, and for a moment, that simple touch made her feel warm all over.

They ended the night sitting cross-legged on the floor of the museum café, long after it closed, surrounded by vending machine snacks and a half-solved crossword puzzle she’d found in her bag. The overhead lights buzzed faintly, casting a dim glow over the abandoned chairs and tables, but neither of them seemed eager to move. They laughed about everything and nothing, the kind of laughing that came from being tired but happy, the kind that made her lean into his shoulder without thinking.

"Okay," Alex said, tapping the eraser end of his pencil against the page. "Eight-letter word for ‘illuminates or clarifies’?"

As she took a moment to think it over, Alex watched in his periphery as she counted off the letters of her word on her fingers. "’Explains’ fits," she mused, popping a purple skittle into her mouth.

"Hmm." He scribbled it in. "Not bad. Maybe I should keep you around."

"Yeah, yeah," she nudged his knee with hers, grinning. "You just like me for my crossword skills."

"Wrong. I like you for your crossword skills and your terrible puns."

“My puns are great, thank you very much.” She rolled her eyes, but she was smiling.

He liked her brain. She liked how funny he was. They made a good pair—two academically overworked people who laughed at obscure engineering memes and played footsie under café tables without meaning to. When they said goodbye that night, he kissed her like he was trying not to smile through it. Like maybe this could really be something.

It felt easy.

And in the days that followed, it stayed easy. He texted her every night.

alex: Made the Mars rover jealous. Can’t stop thinking about you.

Y/N: did you just say that unironically. because I might have to stop seeing you on principle.

alex: Too late, I’ve already added you to my will. You get the Lego Technic collection.

Y/N: wait nvm i’m back in

They made time. Even when they both shouldn’t have.

He’d bring her coffee before her class–something with cinnamon and oat milk in it. He’d scrawl dumb physics jokes on the lid just to make her roll her eyes. She started keeping his schedule in her head without meaning to. She knew which nights he had his advanced systems class and which ones he spent buried in the lab. He’d text her when his simulations crashed at 3AM. She’d send him memes about courtroom drama tropes in return.

He had an engineer’s sense of humor—dry, sneaky, often deeply specific. It took a while to catch on, but once she did, it felt like discovering hidden easter eggs in his sentences.

“You know,” he’d murmur as they lay back in the grass near campus, watching clouds roll over like they weren’t chilly out here in the autumn breeze, “you statistically reduce your lifespan by two minutes every time you eat instant ramen.”

“Cool. So I’ll be dying a noble, sodium-rich death then.”

He turned his head toward her, smiling with closed eyes. “Hmm, a martyr.”

“A hero.”

“Buried with your books and MSG packets.”

She shoved his shoulder. He let her.

On Thursdays, she’d sit outside his lab, cross-legged on the cold tile floor with flashcards in her lap, quizzing him on his presentation slides about failure analysis and impact resistance.

“Okay, explain to me like I’m five—what is a stress-strain curve and why should I care?”

“Because,” he’d say, crouching in front of her with a smirk, “it tells you how close something is to breaking.”

“And that’s relevant to your research…?”

He gave her a confused look, until it turned sheepish as he scratched the back of his neck. “I’m… not entirely sure about that bit, actually.”

She started looking forward to the moments in between—the walks across campus, the shared bag of chips while sitting on the hood of her car, the ridiculous voice memos he sent when he was overtired and delirious.

They kissed in stairwells and library corners and once,perhaps ill-advisedly, on a park bench in the middle of a thunderstorm. The rain had soaked through their clothes, cold and unrelenting, but he had just looked at her and said, "I think we should be stupid about this," right before he leaned in. It was impulsive and dramatic and made her laugh until she had to cover her mouth, their faces inches apart. Her hair was soaked, his glasses fogged up, and they almost dropped his backpack in a puddle, but the moment stuck—sharp and golden and untouchable.

They talked about future dates like there’d be dozens of them—bookstores they wanted to browse together, a tiny Thai place he swore by, a stargazing night he promised would be “scientifically optimized for romance” depending on the cloud cover. She rolled her eyes at that one, but her heart still fluttered.

They were still in the sweet spot—the space between maybe and more, where everything felt bright and possible. 

It wasn’t perfect – but it was promising.

The third date was dinner—some hole-in-the-wall Thai place with flickering neon signage and laminated menus stained with old curry thumbprints. He’d gotten lost on the way and sent a flurry of frantic texts.

alex :) : I passed the restaurant. Twice. There’s a cat staring at me through a laundromat window. I think it’s judging me.

Y/N: be strong. you can beat the cat.

alex :) : Negative, Sargeant. It’s very confident.

He’d arrived breathless, slightly damp from a drizzle, and holding a single packet of Skittles “for your efforts,” he’d said solemnly. She called him an idiot. He looked delighted.

That night, they talked about things that didn’t matter—TV shows neither of them had finished, foods they pretended to like for the aesthetic, the sheer horror of Alex’s undergraduate group project from hell (“We had a guy who thought duct tape was a structural solution”). 

And then, slowly, they talked about the things that did matter.

Like how she used to want to be a journalist when she was little, because she thought it meant you got to ask as many questions as you wanted and never had to apologize.

Or how he still wasn’t sure what kind of engineer he wanted to be—just that he wanted to make things that didn’t break when people needed them most.

“You know,” he said, nudging his glass in slow circles across the table, “you’re not what I expected.”

Y/N looked up. “Is that a good thing or, like, a 'you’re secretly a serial killer' kind of a thing?”

He smiled. “It’s a good thing. Really, really good.”

By the fourth week, they had a rhythm. It wasn’t just dates anymore—it was Hey, want to walk home together? and I saved you the last chocolate chip muffin, but only because I like you more than I like muffins. But barely.

It was him reaching for her hand without thinking, her resting her head against his shoulder on the bus when she was too tired to hold it up.

It was a shared Spotify playlist for when studying is ur 13th reason.

It was early Saturday morning sun filtering into her apartment while they quietly read their own books, his socked foot nudging hers on the side of the couch almost every ten minutes.

It was good.

But between the sleepy smiles and the shared muffins and the texts that kept getting longer instead of shorter, the truth was that they both had dreams. Big ones. All-consuming ones.

And no matter how much you wanted something—or someone—there were only so many hours in the day.

a/n: one of my more favorite chapters! an unfortunate lack of lando though :/ what did you think of it?

[stillmonsterz]

all i gotta do

for this anon!

pairing: jake x reader

genre: fluff (?), humor (???), smut

summary: it's your first day at work and you're nervous. however, your trainer is going to show you why you were nervous for the wrong reasons. one week with jake sim will either make you quit the job or never leave.

contains: unprotected sex, exhibitionism, swearing, incest mention, PTSD mention, i try to be "funny" and make "jokes"

word count: 4.4k (unproofread)

---

DAY ONE

You stepped inside of your new workplace apprehensively; you hadn’t felt so nervous since your first day of university. Wiping your palms on your pants, you made eye contact with the receptionist and smiled wanly. 

“Hello,” you said, resting your fingertips on the counter. “I’m the new hire. I was wondering where I could find…Jake Sim? He’s supposed to be my…” The term that had been used in the introductory email the company had sent to you eluded you.

“Your buddy,” the receptionist said flatly. “Your Park Corp buddy.”

“Yes. That.”

“Jake Sim is on the fifth floor. I take it you’ll be working in data analysis as well?”

You nodded. “Yes, exactly.”

The receptionist smiled at you, but it belied a certain cold humor. “Good luck.”

“Yeah, you too.” As you walked away, you realized your blunder and squeezed your eyes shut. 

–

The fifth floor of the office building had all of the markings of a corporation attempting to reel in more younger workers. There was a vending machine as soon as you walked in, the cubicles were arranged as part of an open concept floor plan, and the walls were plastered with positive, empty aphorisms. You scanned the area, wondering which of the people hunched over their computers was Jake.

Footsteps echoed behind you, and when you turned around you saw a slight, enthusiastic-looking young man with a shock of shaggy brown hair approaching you. In his hands he held two coffee cups. 

“Hey, newbie,” he said with some affection. “Got you a coffee.”

You took the cup, surprised by his vivacity. “Thank you…”

“Jake,” he finished, holding his hand out. “Jake Sim.”

You shook his hand as firmly as you could and introduced yourself.

“I know,” he said cheerfully. “Don’t worry, I like to do a little stalking before we meet a new hire. Although…” his face grew serious. “You really shouldn’t post such…provocative pictures on your Insta. Someone could get ideas.”

Your face blanched and your fingers gripped the coffee cup. “What?”

Jake’s face broke out into a smile. “Just fuckin’ with you. Sorry, I like to razz all the new hires. Makes me feel big.”

His grin was so wide, you felt compelled to smile too. He nudged you and jerked his thumb in the direction of the cubicles. “Let me show you around, PCB.”

You blinked, then it dawned on you. “Park Corp buddy…?”

“So observant,” Jake said, amused. “Come on.”

You followed him around as he explained where everything was: the copy room, the coffee machine, the water dispenser, the popcorn machine, your cubicle (situated in the middle of the room, to your chagrin), his cubicle (tucked neatly in the corner).

Then he taught you how to use the software. Thanks to your university courses, it wasn’t difficult to learn. Jake’s playful personality also gave way to a maturity that you hadn’t expected. He carefully walked you through the program step by step.

“I’ll leave you these tasks to work on,” he said, pulling up a document he had pre-made. “If you get stuck, just come get me, okay? I’m right in the corner.”

You thanked him for his assistance and started working on the tasks he had given you. It wasn’t challenging, so much as it was tedious. Still, you persevered. 

At least, until you heard him approach you again.

“Hey,” Jake said, sitting beside you. His eyes darted around the room. “You were supposed to come get me.”

“You told me to do that if I needed you,” you replied, somewhat confused.

“Yeah,” Jake said slowly, “in case you feel the overwhelming urge to make Jakey’s day and let him help you with something so he can avoid doing his boring ass work. You don’t even understand the basics of being a PCB, do you?”

“You’re using me,” you said, waving an accusatory finger at him. 

“Can you blame me?” he retorted. “Sometimes I can…I can feel my soul leaking from my pores.”

You giggled, and he squinted at you in mock annoyance. “There’s no way you’re laughing at me,” he said, trying to fight a smile. “I’m dying, turning into a corpse, and you’re laughing.”

You shrugged. “At least you’ll die at the prime of your life.”

Jake’s lips curled into a mischievous smile. “Oh, you think I’m in my prime, huh?”

“That’s not what I me-,”

“You’re hitting on me,” Jake said, leaning in. He blinked at you like a puppy. 

You leaned away, your cheeks feeling warm. “I’m not.”

“I wouldn’t mind if you were,” he said softly.

You were about to say something else, something intelligent and witty, but one of your new coworkers approached the two of you. 

“Couldn’t wait a day before sexually harassing the newbie, could you?” He was tall, pale, and had a shit-eating grin that could rival Jake’s. Unlike Jake, who was dressed in a blue button-down and slacks, this person wore a suit with a silky black tie.

Jake leaned away from you, balking at the accusation. “I am not sexually harassing her,” Jake said, clutching his heart. “I wasn’t even normal harassing her.”

“He wasn’t,” you chimed in. 

“Don’t cover up for this louse,” Sunghoon said, shaking his head at Jake. “Look at you, corrupting one of our brightest already with your salacious comments. Weren’t you supposed to be writing up a report on the-,”

“You hear this jerkoff?” Jake said, interrupting. “He puts on a little suit and starts using words like ‘louse’ and ‘salacious’, like we’re not in data analysis.”

“I am a data architect,” Sunghoon said, playfully slamming his hand on your desk. “And I will be treated like one, damn it.”

“Quit it,” Jake said, putting his arms around you and hugging you close to him. “You’re scaring my PCB.” 

“Your PCB is going to get PTSD if you keep touching her,” Sunghoon replied drolly, crossing his arms.

Jake grinned. “My PCB is going to get PTSD if I do PDA with her?” 

Sunghoon said, “Good one,” and they laughed and high-fived. You stared at them incredulously, noting that Jake’s arm was still wrapped around your shoulder. 

“Sorry,” you said slowly, “but I’d like to do my work…”

Jake withdrew his arm and tsked under his breath, standing up. “Great going, Sunghoon,” he hissed. “Now she hates you.”

“She hates you, idiot,” Sunghoon retorted as they walked away.

You slumped down in your chair, already feeling exhausted. You worked straight through your lunch break, and as you commuted home you wondered how the rest of your training week would go.

–

DAY TWO 

The next day, you felt a little more equipped to navigate your new job. In your purse, you brought some items with which to decorate your desk.

You came into work early, noting that very few people show up at this time. Perfect. With careful precision, you arranged your new trinkets on your desk; a magnetic calendar for your cubicle wall, a little plush doll, a notebook, a nice mousepad, and a little jar of chocolates. 

As you’re turning your computer on, you heard three male voices approaching your desk. Two of which you recognize. 

“There she is,” you heard Jake say quietly, “isn’t she cute?”

You looked up and waved. There was Jake, wearing a button-up with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. Sunghoon, wearing another crisp suit. And a third person wearing an oversized collared shirt with dark blue jeans, looking you up and down. 

“You’re here early,” Jake said cheerfully. “Excited for work?”

“I just wanted to decorate my desk,” you explained, proudly displaying your newly decorated workplace.

The three men politely admired your table. Then Sunghoon nudged the third man in the ribs. He cleared his throat. 

“I’m Heeseung,” he said, awkwardly raising his hand. “Heeseung Lee.”

“Nice to meet you,” you replied, holding your hand out.

You shook hands with him, and Sunghoon snorted. “I didn’t get a handshake from you.”

“You also didn’t introduce yourself to me…”

Sunghoon looked away, the tips of his ears going red. “Right. I suppose that was my folly. Apologies.”

Jake leaned down and whispered, “Isn’t he such a pretentious dick?” in your ear. You suppressed another giggle as you stuck your hand out.

Sunghoon shook it firmly. “Park Sunghoon,” he said with a smile. “Data architect.”

“You told her that already,” Jake said. 

“And I told you to shut up several times, not that you ever listened,” Sunghoon retorted.

You glanced at Heeseung, and he just shrugged at you. “They can’t stop,” he said, glancing between the two of them. “It’s hard-coded into their DNA to be idiots in front of cute girls.”

Jake squinted at Heeseung. “Oh, you think she’s cute? Are you into her or something?”

Heeseung raised his hands in self-defense, backing up. “No, no, not at all.”

You sighed. “Could…could I go ahead and start my work?”

Jake shook his head and stalked away from your table. “She fucking hates you, you know that?” he said, lightly pushing Heeseung. 

Later that day, as you’re packing up to head home, you hear footsteps that were already becoming familiar.

“Hey,” Jake said quietly, “the guys and I were wondering if you wanted to eat with us at lunch tomorrow?”

You blinked up at him. “No kidding?”

“Yeah. We want you to feel welcome here,” he said, resting his hand on your shoulder. 

A smile spread across your face, and you nodded. “Sure. Sounds like it'll be a lot of fun.” Like seeing monkeys in the zoo.

Jake grinned, patting your shoulder. “Awesome! Awesome, awesome.” He paused then, placing his hand in his pocket. “One other thing,” he said slowly. 

“What’s that?” you tilted your head at him.

“Well, you know, you don’t have to dress so formally,” he said, gesturing at your outfit. “Unless you’re trying to be Sunghoon or something. You can dress business casual.”

You looked down at yourself; your outfit was pretty formal and rigid. “All right,” you said, “I’ll be nice and casual tomorrow.”

“Sounds great,” Jake said, biting his lip slightly. 

– 

DAY THREE

Work already felt much more comfortable. Besides the three coworkers you had already met, the rest of the employees ranged from amicable to ambivalent, so you never felt tense. Occasionally, Jake would come over to your desk and look at how you were coming along. Or, as you figured, he was just coming to ogle you. Not that you minded the extra attention. 

When you walked in this morning, dressed in your more casual outfit, his eyes had lingered on you for so long you thought it could be classed as a workplace violation.

“Very nice,” Jake had said approvingly. “Very…casual.”

“I try,” you had said drily, heading to your desk. 

“I’m serious,” he had said, walking with you. “You have, pardon me, a great figure.” 

“That’s not very PC,” Sunghoon had said as he passed by your desk. 

“So, what you’re saying,” Jake had started, and you were already rolling your eyes, “I’m not acting PC with my PCB?”

You had groaned. “Jake…”

“Great going, Sunghoon,” Jake had grumbled, his hands stuffed in his pockets. “You’re the worst, I swear…”

Now you were sitting with them in the break room, where they were locked in what you could only assume was a longstanding debate. 

“I’m saying that it wouldn’t be gay if it was on an island,” Jake protested, “so it wouldn’t even matter, Sunghoon.”

“Okay, but they’d eventually get rescued, so they’d have to live with that,” Sunghoon retorted, gesturing with his sandwich. 

“Yeah, but they don’t know that they’re getting rescued.”

You glanced at Heeseung, who was eating a microwavable meal. “What are they talking about?”

Heeseung leaned into you, whispering as so not to catch their attention. “It’s this stupid hypothetical they came up with,” Heeseung explained. “If there was an island, and a pair of adult siblings were on one end, and a pair of two straight men were on the other end, which pair would hook up first?”

You blinked. “Well, the siblings, right?”

A haunting silence overtook the break room. Heeseung, Jake, and Sunghoon all stared at you, and you got the impression that you had disrupted something sacred, something hallowed.

Sunghoon laughed and pointed at you. “See? See? Your little work wife doesn’t even agree with you. Those siblings would be smashing, right?”

“Well, I g-,”

“All over each other,” Sunghoon continued, making vulgar gestures with his hands. “It’d be like…five hours. Sweaty from the sun. They’d be rolling around, sand in their ass, it’d be carnal. Primal.”

Jake stared at you incredulously. “You really don’t think the straight guys would fuck?”

You shrugged helplessly. “Well, they’re straight, so I mean…”

Jake groaned, throwing his head back dramatically. “Okay. Look. If you were on an island with a sexy ass woman, and she had short nails and everything, and she was fully ready to finger your pussy, you wouldn’t let her smash? Because you were ‘straight’?”

“I mean…no.”

“Nah,” Jake said, waving a baby carrot in your face. “You’re either deluded or you aren’t thinking hard enough. You’d get desperate. You’d be munching so much carpet you’d look like…like…”

“Like a carpet factory,” Heeseung said sarcastically. 

“You’re so fucking unfunny,” Jake replied. “No, you’d look like…”

“Like she’s an interior designer?” Sunghoon offered. 

“Close enough,” Jake said, sighing. “Real dark day when Sunghoon is funnier than you. Do better, Heeseung.”

“Yeah, Heeseung,” you said, “do better.”

Heeseung scoffed. “I thought you were my friend.”

You shrugged. “I wanted to join in.”

Jake clapped you on your back and laughed. “Look at you. Blending in already!”

– 

After lunch you excused yourself and went to the bathroom. When you emerged, Jake was leaning against the wall, playing with his fingers. 

“Hey,” he said, straightening up. “Had a random hypothetical for you.”

“Sure,” you said, crossing your arms. 

“So,” Jake began, his eyes darting around your face, “if you were stuck on a deserted island…”

You groaned. 

“Wait! Wait, wait, wait.” Jake put one hand on your shoulder. “If you were stuck on a deserted island, which of us would you want with you? Me, Sunghoon, or Heeseung?”

You frowned. “Well, you, obviously.”

Jake smiled at you widely, running his fingers through his hair. “Ha, for real?”

“Well, yeah. I know you the best.”

His smile faltered. “Is that really the only reason?”

You frowned, unsure of what to say. “I me-,”

Jake clapped you on the back and snorted. “I was just messing with you,” he said before striding back to his corner cubicle.

–

DAY FOUR 

You consulted your list of tasks. Your last, and most important task, was to type up a data analysis report based off of the information you had been gathering for the past week. Jake said that he would look over it for you later.

After spending the better part of your morning working on the report, you leaned back and stretched. Your eyes were starting to hurt from staring at a screen for so long, and you rubbed them.

Jake was next to you before you could react. “Hey,” he said, “how’s the report going?”

“It’s going,” you said, pinching the bridge of your nose.

“Let me see,” Jake said, leaning over you and scrolling through your document. Your breath hitched; he was so close, you could smell his cologne. If you glanced to your right, you would be able to see his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down as he swallowed. 

Jake silently pored over the document, his chest pressed against your back. His hand rested on your shoulder, and you couldn’t tell if he was rubbing it as a subconscious habit or not.

“Looking good so far,” he whispered, and when his hand slid down your arm, you knew it was intentional.

“Anything I need to fix?” you asked, attempting to maintain a semblance of professionalism.

“Hm…” Jake leaned in to you evermore, until he was flush against you. “Nothing I can see. You’re a good worker, aren’t you?”

“I try,” you said quietly. 

“A good little worker bee,” Jake said softly, his lips almost brushing your ear. “Just what I like.”

You dared to turn your head slightly to catch Jake’s gaze, and he smiled at you, that easy-going, smile that hid a wealth of sobriety and determination. He patted your shoulder again and leaned upwards. The loss of his scent and touch bothered you, but you didn’t say a word. 

“I’ll leave you to it now,” Jake said, stretching his wrists out. “Come early tomorrow, okay?”

“Huh? Why?” 

“So I can look over your report one last time before you submit it,” Jake said plainly. “What were you thinking, you naughty little bee?”

“I wasn’t thinking of anything like th-,”

Jake laughed. “I was kidding. You’re so cute when you’re all flustered, though.”

When Jake left, you realized that you had been squeezing your plush doll. You released it and sighed. Then, you continued working on the report. 

–

DAY FIVE 

You strode into the office early. Jake had emailed you through the company’s email, requesting that you arrive on the fifth floor at 7:30 am. Work started at 9:00, so he would have ample time to go over the report with you.

When you entered the floor, you first noted that there were a few workers already there, hunched over their desks. Just a few overachievers…or underachievers, you guessed. 

Jake was waving you over to his cubicle, his hair flopping in his face as he enthusiastically beckoned you. You walked towards him. 

“Come on,” he said, smiling at you playfully despite the early time. “Come sit.”

You went to pull over another chair, but Jake grabbed your wrist. “No, no,” he said with a shake of his hair. “Just sit next to me.” He scooted over in his chair, leaving you with a sliver of space. 

You were already growing accustomed to Jake’s “jokes”, so you sat next to him. Your left leg hung over the side of the chair, the other smushed against Jake’s. 

He smiled at you, then opened your report on his computer. You had sent it to him that night, your heart fluttering even though it was just an email. Just five days at this office was making you as pathetic as Jake and his friends. 

As he scrolled through the document, he kept glancing at you. Eventually, Jake said, “You can’t be comfortable sitting on the chair like that.”

“You’re right,” you said with a sigh. “I’m not.”

“Why not just…sit on my lap?” Jake asked nonchalantly, his lower lip jutting out in a slight pout.

You sighed. “I see the game you’re playing here, Sim.”

“Will you play, my little worker bee?”

A shift of your ass from the small slice of chair to Jake’s lap was your answer to him, and when you leaned against him he smiled. Jake’s hands reached down to encircle your hips. 

“You really are such a good bee,” he said, massaging your hips. 

“I can be even better if you let me,” you replied, your gaze flickering to his plush lips. 

Jake leaned his head against the mesh backing of his swivel chair. Your back was pressed against his chest, and your hands reached behind you to stroke his face. “I’d like to test that theory,” Jake said softly.

You leaned in and kissed him, reveling in the taste of his lips. He followed suit, kissing you enthusiastically. Jake’s hands remained on our hips, but they soon slid to your thighs, squeezing and groping at the soft flesh. Jake swiped his tongue along your bottom lip a few times, and you widened your mouth. His tongue probed past your lips, licking your own tongue.

“So good,” he whispered, briefly breaking the kiss. “You’d never let fuckass Sunghoon do this, right?”

“Jake…”

“Sorry, baby,” Jake said apologetically. “I get territorial. I’m like a wolf.”

“Jake, come on.”

“Awoo,” he said playfully before kissing you again. Your tongues pressed together, swirling around each other. As the kiss deepened, you bit his lower lip before licking the mark. Jake groaned into your mouth.

“Little bee,” he said, pulling away once again. He rested his forehead against yours. “If you’re going to do stuff like that, you’re gonna have to commit to it.”

“I want to commit to it,” you said, leaving wet kisses along his neck. 

Jake groaned and grabbed one of your legs. He brought it over his lap and dragged your hips closer to his crotch. “Now, you’re going to have to be quiet. Can you do that for me?”

“I can be quiet,” you said, resting your hands on his shoulders. 

“Promise? This isn’t a big office,” he said, his voice low and hoarse. “It’d be a shame if someone heard us and you got in trouble. You wouldn’t want that, right?”

“No,” you whispered. As you stared at him, Jake started to unbuckle his belt. When he noticed your gaze, he frowned. 

“Come on, bee,” he said, gesturing at your skirt. “Can’t do everything for you, can I?”

You zipped your skirt down in the back and shifted so you could wriggle yourself out of it. Jake gave you an exasperated glance, so you shimmied your panties down to your thighs.

“And?” he asked impatiently.

“And…what?”

Jake sighed. “Take your tits out, come on.”

The phrase was so vulgar it shocked you, but somehow it was sexy when uttered from Jake’s mouth. The contrast between his disgusting mind and his boyish good looks thrilled you, so you did as he asked. You un-buttoned your shirt down and tugged your bra straps down, revealing your chest. 

Immediately, Jake groped your tits, sighing in pleasure. “Feeling up a pretty girl’s tits early in the morning,” he said, almost reverently. “This is amazing.”

The sensation cause you to moan, and Jake immediately sent you a harsh look. He squeezed one of your breasts, and you suppressed a gasp. “I told you to be quiet, little bee,” he whispered. “You said you could do it.”

“I can,” you murmured. 

“Then show me you can,” Jake replied, still fondling your breasts. He pinched your nipples, squeezed your tits, pushed them together then apart. After a while, he took one of your hands and placed it on his crotch. 

First, you rubbed his hard-on through his slacks, and he bit his lip to avoid moaning. Then you unzipped his pants and pulled out his cock. You were surprised by its girth, as well as the fact that he was already leaking precum. Spitting into your hand, you gathered up some of that precum and used it to stroke his shaft. Jake shuddered and gritted his teeth together. 

“Nice and slow,” he said, his breathing already labored. “Slowly, baby.”

You heeded his order and stroked his cock while he played with your breasts. He hadn’t tired of them; on the contrary, he was transfixed by them. Jake leaned forward and bit one of your breasts hard, sucking at the spot immediately after. “Look at this and think of me,” he whispered before leaving another hickey on your other breast. 

Jake suddenly seemed to remember that he didn’t have much time with you. He took his mouth off of your breast and swatted your hands from his cock. Then he covered your lips with his hand and slowly, painstakingly, guided his cockhead into your dripping, wet pussy. 

You were glad you were being muffled by his hand, because you would not have been able to contain your shivering moans. He shallowly fucked into you, allowing you to get used to his length. When he felt that you were ready, he lifted his hips upwards and slid inside of you completely, letting out a heavy breath.

“Now bounce on it,” Jake whispered into your ear. One hand freely groped your breast, the other was clamped onto your hip. You guessed that he trusted you not to moan now. 

You had never ridden dick before, but you had a general idea of how to do it. You lifted yourself up and down, your pussy enveloping his shaft. The feeling was incredible, and you bit his hand as you worked yourself on his cock. As you did, the swivel chair squeaked due to the movement.

Jake shunted his hips upwards, matching your movements. His hand moved down to your waist, gripping it tightly. “Faster,” he hissed. “Faster, baby.”

Now that you had gotten used to him, you bounced on him faster. Your ass slapped against his strong, muscular thighs, and you knew that there was no way you were being conspicuous. Your pussy made smacking noises as you rode him, and the swivel chair squeaked like it was going to break.

Still, Jake urged you on. “Come on, come on, fucking put that slutty pussy to work,” he said, taking your tits into his mouth. Both of his hands were gripping your hips, pushing him onto his length. “Keep going. Don’t you dare…stop.”

You were reaching your limit, exhaustion seeping into your limbs. Jake lightly pinched your side, and you gasped. “I told you to keep going, baby.”

So you kept going. You swore you could feel him in your womb, that was how far he was pushing you. “Pussy’s gonna be shaped like this dick,” Jake hissed, leaving sloppy kisses all over your chest. “My masterpiece.”

Warmth filled you, all the way to your core, and you knew you were about to burst. “Cover my mouth,” you whispered and Jake immediately placed his hand over your mouth, rutting into you even faster.

“Gonna cum,” Jake grunted, his thrusts growing slower and sloppier. “Gonna fill this sweet pussy up.” With a growl that didn’t dare leave his throat, he fucked his cum into you, his hand still gripping your hip. Slowly, painstakingly, he pulled out of you, and you could see his cum dripping out of you.

He kissed your forehead and uncovered your mouth. “That was so good,” you whispered.

“It’ll be better next time,” Jake said slyly. 

“Oh, yeah?” You started to put your clothes back on, tugging your bra down and buttoning your shirt again. “What makes you so sure?”

Jake leaned into your ear again. “Next time, I’ll get to hear you scream my name.”

You pulled away from him, your eyes widening. 

Jake smiled at you. “Just kidding.”

[mudwerks]

(via Vending machine error reveals secret face image database of college students | Ars Technica)

Canada-based University of Waterloo is racing to remove M&M-branded smart vending machines from campus after outraged students discovered the machines were covertly collecting facial-recognition data without their consent.

The scandal started when a student using the alias SquidKid47 posted an image on Reddit showing a campus vending machine error message, "Invenda.Vending.FacialRecognitionApp.exe," displayed after the machine failed to launch a facial recognition application that nobody expected to be part of the process of using a vending machine.

"Hey, so why do the stupid M&M machines have facial recognition?" SquidKid47 pondered.

The Reddit post sparked an investigation from a fourth-year student named River Stanley, who was writing for a university publication called MathNEWS.

Stanley sounded alarm after consulting Invenda sales brochures that promised "the machines are capable of sending estimated ages and genders" of every person who used the machines without ever requesting consent.

This frustrated Stanley, who discovered that Canada's privacy commissioner had years ago investigated a shopping mall operator called Cadillac Fairview after discovering some of the malls' informational kiosks were secretly "using facial recognition software on unsuspecting patrons."

Only because of that official investigation did Canadians learn that "over 5 million nonconsenting Canadians" were scanned into Cadillac Fairview's database, Stanley reported. Where Cadillac Fairview was ultimately forced to delete the entire database, Stanley wrote that consequences for collecting similarly sensitive facial recognition data without consent for Invenda clients like Mars remain unclear.

Stanley's report ended with a call for students to demand that the university "bar facial recognition vending machines from campus."

what the motherfuck

[spiceofvy]

SKZ walking in on the Reader masturbating

cws: gender neutral reader, mention of toys used during masturbation (minho), filming (changbin), drawing someone while their masturbating (hyunjin), mutual masturbation (seungmin, jeongin)

Chan: Is immediately flustered and curses himself for not knocking before he gets in. He walks out of the room, slamming the door a bit too hard, startling you. Talk of killing the mood. After you‘re finished or gave up because you were no longer in the mood he talks to you about what is okay for him to do in such a situation. „I don‘t mind helping you next time if you want me to.“

Minho: Will smile widely when walks in on you. He probably heard you through the door so he knows exactly what is happening on the inside. „Don‘t you want something better than this sad little toy?“ Oh and better he is. And half an hour of solo fun turns into multiple hours of fucking. Asks you to text him next time so he can come home a bit earlier.

Changbin: Gets shy when he sees you and walks straight back out. But just a couple of seconds of seeing you like this already turned him on so much. Has a wank of shame later. And the day after. And the week after. He just can‘t stop the image of you pleasuring yourself in front of him. Will ask you to film yourself the next time you masturbate, starting a whole collection of videos on his phone. „Just for when I can‘t have you by my side.“

Hyunjin: When he sees you in such a position, something in his mind just halts, he has finally found inspiration for his next painting. Asks you to keep doing so he can draw you. If you agree he is gonna sit by your side watching how your face moves, how you blush, how shudder when you cum. Keeps on asking for just one more orgasm so he has more references. When he is done and several pages of his special sketchbook are filled he will thank you with his mouth. „Thank you for doing this for me my beautiful muse“

Jisung: Jisung doesn‘t realize what you are doing when he walks into the room. He had a long day and just really needs to rant. How the vending machine at the studio was broken, how the music software crashed two times, he got stuck for hours on the same part of the song, how it rained on the way home and he forgot his umbrella. When he realizes what you were up to he just stares at you for a bit. And you just stare back. „When you‘re already at it… wanna fuck?“ Laughs about it later and promises to check if you're masturbating before he starts ranting next time.

Felix: Our baby gets so shy when he walks in on you. Starts to frantically swear in English while covering his eyes instead of walking out, face dark red. Then starts apologizing, still standing there with his eyes covered. When he finally realizes that he should probably leave you alone he hits his foot on the doorway. „Just tell me when you‘re finished!“ When he‘s outside he realizes that the situation has him pretty aroused which makes him blush again.

Seungmin: „I don‘t mind. Keep going.“ If you don‘t ask him to leave he will just stay to watch. After some time he starts rubbing his bulge through his pants, his eyes roaming your body and flushed face. Praises you softly for being so pretty for him. Will keep the eye contact going as you both cum. After that mutual masturbation will become your guys’ normal reaction to walking in on each other.

Jeongin: Another shy baby. But he just can't take his eyes away from you, you look so good while satisfying yourself. When he finally runs out of the room he has such a hard boner. He wasn’t aware that watching you masturbate would be such a turn-on for him. Will ask you later if he could watch you making yourself cum, which will lead to mutual masturbation. „I just want to see you feeling good.“

[allthegeopolitics]

A company has installed computerized vending machines to sell ammunition in grocery stores in Alabama, Oklahoma and Texas, allowing patrons to pick up bullets along with a gallon of milk. American Rounds said their machines use an identification scanner and facial recognition software to verify the purchaser’s age and are as “quick and easy” to use as a computer tablet. But advocates worry that selling bullets out of vending machines will lead to more shootings in the U.S., where gun violence killed at least 33 people on Independence Day alone.

Continue Reading.

[botcorp]

question for alif: what caused you to found R.E.D and BOT CORPORATION?

This rant brought to you by the first-person perspective

It started with a thought. No, a knowing. An unshakable, thunderous, nuclear truth that detonated in my skull when I was 21—when the crust of this sad little planet finally cracked under the weight of my genius. I remember the moment vividly: I was halfway through my seventh protein bar of the morning (don’t ask why, you wouldn’t get it), staring into the flickering blue light of a broken vending machine, and it hit me. Not a vision. Not an idea. A revelation. The world was… incomplete. And only I could finish it.

So I built BOTCORP. Or rather—it built itself, out of the sheer gravitational pull of my ambition, coalescing like a galaxy around the singularity that is me. You think corporations are founded on market research? Capital? NO. BOTCORP erupted into existence because the cosmic code needed it to. It’s not a company. It’s an ontological inevitability. Like death. Or taxes. Or the heat death of the universe, if it wore a tailored suit and harvested biometric data faster than the speed of light.

People think it started with software and a warehouse. Wrong. It started with a mirror. A mirror I stared into for nine consecutive days, each second peeling back layers of human mediocrity until all that was left staring back was a divine blueprint—a screaming, incandescent idea-being screaming, “YOU ARE THE GOD OF INFRASTRUCTURE.”

So yeah. BOTCORP. Multi-quintillion dollar valuation? Cute. It’s not about the money. The money is just the byproduct, like radioactive ash from the reactor core of my soul. I don’t want to own the economy. I want to replace it. I want your entire life to run on systems I designed in a caffeine fugue at 3am during a manic episode that I later retroactively rebranded as a “vision sprint.”

And then there’s R.E.D. Registered Equipment Distributors. People ask, “Why not just call it BOTCORP Logistics or BOTCORP Shipping?” Because R.E.D. isn’t logistics. R.E.D. is RED. It’s blood. It’s the primal pulse of movement, of power, of the very concept of transfer incarnate. It’s not a child company—it’s my right arm, surgically removed, mechanically enhanced, and reattached with an energy gun and an energy relay theater will outlive GOD. It doesn’t distribute equipment. It births it into the world, fully formed, tagged, tracked, and blessed in the name of ME.

You think you bought a pallet jack? NO. That was a fragment of my subconscious, lovingly injected into your warehouse to watch you—to listen, to learn, to report back to me via a proprietary telemetry language based entirely on my old dreams and the sound of whales dying in sonar feedback loops.

BOTCORP doesn’t make products. BOTCORP makes reality compatible with my existence. It rewires cause and effect. It redefines supply and demand as submit or perish. Every market trend you see? I made that. Every stock surge? My twitching eyelid. Every “innovation” from a competitor? Me, two years ago, discarded in disgust because I found a way to do it using hydrophobic quantum thread and half a toothpick.

My employees? They’re not employees. They’re neurons. My management team? They’re echoes. My HR department? Psychological warfare technicians, each trained in 17 forms of passive aggression and one ancient Babylonian curse. The break room contains a shrine. Not by my order. They just… started building it. I’ve never asked them why. I already know.

Sometimes I forget where I end and BOTCORP begins. I try to walk down the street, and the stoplights blink in binary. Street names rearrange into acronyms. Children point and say “mommy, the god-king of machines is here.” I cough, and somewhere, an office tower in Dubai gets a firmware update.

And R.E.D.—ah, R.E.D.—its warehouses are alive. Not metaphorically. I mean they breathe. There are vents that inhale dust and exhale profit. Conveyor belts that scream lullabies to the pallets. Forklifts that argue with each other in machine tongues only I can translate. I once found a shipment of mining drills singing “Ave Maria.” We don’t question it anymore. We just ship faster.

Why did I do all this? Why did I create BOTCORP? Because the world was a sandbox and I was tired of pretending to be one of the children. Because every other business was a joke told in bad faith by small men in smaller suits. Because I saw the void and I said, “This would make a great distribution hub.”

I am not your competitor. I am not your peer. I am the whisper in your quarterly reports. I am the red dot on your supply graph. I am the sleep paralysis demon of capitalism, and my name is branded on the walls of time.

You want to stop me? Good luck. I already knew you would try. I factored your resistance into our Q3 forecasts. I’m not just five steps ahead. I’m already at your funeral, selling commemorative mugs and action figures of the children you never had.

So, why did I found BOTCORP?

Because I could.

Because no one told me not to.

Because this world didn’t have a god, and I was bored.

[phoenixyfriend]

Ko-Fi prompt from KemiKitty:

id enjoy hearing about concerts and ticket money if you want

Referencing my “how does this make money/how does this lose money” in this post.

Whoo! I actually really enjoy talking about money flow like this. Digging into examples like this helps with understanding the interconnectedness of the economic systems we inhabit, and with why things cost What They Do.

Disclaimer: I have not worked in this industry. I just majored in business, watch a lot of documentaries/video essays, and like to break down business and economic topics. When I got to performances, I try to figure these things out as an observer (dinner theater from watching Lindsey Sterling before she got super famous, more Traditional concerts at Staller Performing Arts center, Broadway shows) and asking questions of tour guides when at places like the Vienna Opera House.

Our Example: A moderately popular performer, in an enclosed performance space with a stage, fixed seating, and food service.

Let us consider a performer of middling popularity. They go on tours, but only in the lower 48 states, not yet internationally. They do single nights at an independent venue, which has either dinner tables or rows of audience seating. Let's say... 350 seats, in a middle-sized city, with $30/ticket on average, with wiggle room depending on seating, VIP passes, and discounts (groupons, senior, military, annual passes, etc).

So, who is getting paid, and who is paying?

Money coming into the venue, tied directly to this one event:

Tickets The people who came to this concert are paying for the tickets. 350 seats, at an average of $30/ticket, that's about $10,500. Most of this money does not go to the venue, but may pass through it, or leave a cut with it. (Depends on the ticketing software; we're saying this is an independent venue, not part of the ticketmaster situation, so it's a maybe.)

Food and drink The venue sells snacks, possibly full meals, if it's a dinner-and-show location. It may sell alcohol. It almost definitely sells drinks, maybe has vending machines if nothing else. If attendees cannot bring their own food and drink, and don't want to leave the building so they don't miss the show, then the venue can mark up the food they sell.

Merchandise Dependent on the type of merch and the venue, this may be a flat fee, where the performer puts down a few hundred dollars up front to set up a table for after the concert, or it might be taking a small cut of whatever is sold that night. They might not charge anything, but we'll include it as a likely avenue of income. I can see some kinder venues waiving the fee for newer, up-and-coming artists, but generally you can assume that the venue will take a cut.

Money flowing out of the venue, tied directly to this one event:

The Performer and their team The ticket costs will go primarily to the performer, their backup dancers/singers/band, their manager, and whatever fund they have for things other than wages, like a tour bus rental fee, the label, the driver, the night's post-concert laundry costs, and so on. The chances of all that money going to a single performer is very low; you can generally assume they have backup, management, additional costs, and someone pulling the strings. There are exceptions, like unaffiliated stand-up comedians or other, genuinely solo acts, but for the type of event I'm outlining, these are all contributing factors. Performers may bring their own lighting/sound techs. The venue also might provide their own. For a larger venue, I'd assume both are involved; one who knows the concert's program, and one who knows the venue's setup.

Venue staff The ushers, lighting/sound technicians, the bar staff, the cook, the janitor, security, and anyone else who is working night-of is getting paid. We can equate their pay to the money coming in from specifically the food and drink sales, along with tips for the waitstaff in particular. By this, I mean that the correlation is such that, should sales fall, the corresponding cut in costs is employee labor (the bar staff and cooks), rather than the performers (whose costs are calculated in relation to the money they bring in relating to the ticket sales).

Food and Drink Raw ingredients for the food, wholesale costs for the liquor, napkins, single-use straws, and so on.

Printed Programs Someone has to print the little booklet that tells you who's performing tonight, who's performing for the next few months, and anything else you need to know. If it's a big-name cultural center, they may even include some interviews! But ink is expensive, and that's a lot of paper.

Money coming into the venue, not connected to the specific event:

Advertising Does the venue have posters around for local businesses? For insurance companies? For upcoming events? Someone is paying them for that. Does the venue intersperse the pre-show music over the speakers with the occasional ad spot? Someone is paying them for that. Does the venue have ads in the program booklet? Someone is paying them for that. For a really, really large venue, the kind with dozens or hundreds of employees and massive lighting/sound setups, they are liable to get most of their income from advertising.

Government Grants and Private Donations Depending on the venue, they may donations or grants. This is more likely to apply to a university/community performing arts center than a for-profit dinner theater, but it's a possibility.

Merchandise The venue may have merch that is unrelated to the performance of the night. A historic or novelty location is most likely to have success with this, selling beer glasses with their logo or a t-shirt with 'home of the [band from several decades ago]' printed across the front.

Money flowing out of the venue, not connected to the specific event:

Administrative/Overhead Employees Management, bookkeeping, legal, marketing, and so on.

Utilities Electricity, water, sewage, gas, telecomm, and so on.

Taxes, Licenses, Fees Sales tax, property tax, liquor license, etc.

Mortgage or lease The venue's business owner is not necessarily the one to own the property outright. They may pay rent to a property owner, or mortgage to the bank.

Maintenance - Building Codes Any large building is going to need plumbers, glass techs, electricians, roofers, and so on coming by with regularity. (This part, I actually do know; I used to do repairs dispatching, and you'd be amazed how frequently a big box store needs someone to come by about the toilets.)

Maintenance - Venue Codes There are certain things that an entertainment venue needs to do that other businesses... don't. Namely, fire safety. It's a huge deal. Staying up to code can be expensive, especially if you need to get your backstage/wing curtains chemically treated again, which can be anywhere from one to five years, or the next time someone spills water on it. (That's the main reason open containers of liquids aren't allowed backstage.)

Marketing Just like people pay the venue to advertise, the venue pays for others to advertise it. This could be in the local newspaper or online, but if a given performer isn't someone semi-famous on tour that has a following, then something else needs to draw in a regular paying crowd.

Miscellaneous Overhead There is a lot of overhead for any business of moderate size that has its costs spread out over the year. This includes hiring an accountant for tax season, purchasing uniforms for employees, replacing cutlery and plates and furniture as it wears out or gets lost, repainting the walls every few years, office supplies when the printer for the programs wears out, and so on.

Is this everything? Almost definitely not.

But, hopefully, I've untangled a few things that you may not have considered before.

Those tickets and drinks you bought cover a lot more than just the performer!

...unless it's through ticketmaster, in which case it's probably just the monopoly.

----

If you enjoyed this post, please support me on ko-fi! You can also prompt me for a business/econ topic of your choice here.

[gabriellerudessa]

Thinking about the various people in attendance at the Vault-Tec meeting, and it makes sense why each of them were there:

Frederick Sinclair: He's there as a controlling shareholder in Big MT, and Vault-Tec wants to fit some of their vaults out with many of the technologies that Big MT was supplying to the Sierra Madre (they don't need the holograms, but there's plenty of value in the Vending Machines and Auto Docs).

Leon von Felden: Representing West-Tek, he's the guy who created FEV, and the sorts of experiments that project involved have overlap with the kind of experimentation that went down in Vault 4.

Robert House: Having predicted in 2065 that nuclear war was inevitable within 15 years, he's spent the past decade building connections at Vault-Tec.

Julia Masters: Represents REPCONN, who developed rockets (the company's full name being "Rocket Engineering Production Company of Nevada"), and probably developed the very nuclear missile that Hank MacLean later leveled Shady Sands with in 2283.

All very good points and well explained.

To add to Mr House: not ONLY built connections with Vault Tec, but probably at the moment of the meeting RobCo and General Atomics were already a joint venture, so probably Mr House is also representing them. And General Atomics was the one behind the Robobrain, Mister Handys and a lot more related to robotics, software, power and energy that are, without a doubt, essential to Vault Tecs plans.

[vendekin11]

Vending Machine Management Software

Vending machine software with AI and IoT for smarter vending operations. Improve inventory management, maintenance and decision-making

[antmyerp]

This blog explains that the CMMS software for vending machines offers various features that will be helpful for the vending machine service industry, such as Automated Preventative Maintenance, ensuring regular checks, reduced breakdowns, and extending machine life.

Equipment and stock are efficiently managed, simplifying stock management and providing necessary items are always available. Workflow optimization streamlines processes, improving efficiency and slashing response times. Detailed reports empower data-driven decisions, facilitating continuous improvement. Explore our solutions for your vending machine business growth and success. Schedule a free demo now!

[sighahnide]

[VENDING MACHINES 19] DOOM (2016), id Software (submitted by Neutral)

[hellishhin]

Look at the Hands

A short story by Hin

~3.8k words

Calum had just sat down at his new desk when there was a firm knock at the door. Expecting his manager had returned with his credentials, Calum was surprised to see a short woman rather than his burly manager Robert.

“Hello. Are you new here?” She asked.

“Yeah, today is my first day,” Calum replied.

“Welcome to IntelleX. Where do you live?”

“Uh, on Pine Hill. What’s your name? I’m Calum.” He held out his hand.

She gave him one firm shake before letting go. “I am Elaine. What do you know about computers?” Elaine asked.

“I have an undergrad degree in computer science so… a bit.”

“What is an undergrad degree?”

“It’s uh, an undergraduate degree, a bachelors.” Calum answered.

The conversation was cut short as Robert, the manager, walked down the hallway.

“Elaine, I see you’ve met Calum. Thank you for making him feel welcome but he still needs to get settled. There will be time to chat later,” Robert said.

When Elaine had reentered her office Calum asked, “Is she always like that?”

“Like what?” “She asked me what an undergrad degree was and where I lived. She was nice but they seemed like weird questions to ask.”

“Computer skills and social skills can have an inverse relationship but we have a great team here. They can take some time to warm up and get comfortable.” Robert held out a packet of instructions which Calum took.

“Go over these,” Robert said. “If you complete them before the end of the day, give me a call. My extension is on the back. If you need anything please let me know.” Calum was alone in his office once again.

The first half of the day took him through the IntelleX training modules where he was taught the basics of machine learning and introduced to the specific programs he would be working with. It felt like the beginning of another class, syllabus and all.

By the time he was getting bored, it was eleven thirty. Close enough to lunch time he logged out and tried to remember where the vending machines were. He passed by the breakroom and saw Elaine talking with two other men. She saw Calum and waved him inside.

“Hi Elaine, good to see you again.”

“Yes, hello. You are Calum. This is Arnie,” she gestured at a round man with thick glasses. “And this is Liam.” Liam was a thin man with a sharply protruding Adam’s apple that dipped as he said hello.

“Nice to meet you.” Calum shook both of their hands. Each of them gave firm but brief handshakes just as Elaine had.

“What do you have for lunch?” Arnie asked.

“I was just going to get something from the vending machines.”

“Well you were not going the fastest way if you came by here,” Liam said.

“I couldn’t remember which way to go. I have a terrible sense of direction. Just figuring out where I parked my car will be a challenge.”

“What kind of car do you drive?” Elaine asked.

The random questions kept coming until Calum told them he needed to get some lunch and get back to work. Settling into the modules seemed a lot more comfortable than the awkward conversations he’s had with his new coworkers so far.

After hours of different software, theories, and basic code introductions he was disappointed to find out his job was to answer questions generated by IntelleX’s prototype AI Oracle which stood for Organic-Replicated Adaptive Cognitive Learning Entity. He had at least hoped there would be more coding or problem solving but he supposed everyone had to start somewhere.

Calum opened the Oracle program since he had about an hour left of his shift. He didn’t have any questions so he figured he would get right to work and not bother Robert. The Oracle chat screen was a light shade of social-media-blue. Three little dots bounced cheerfully for a moment before a message popped up.

Hello. I am glad to speak with you. My name is Oracle. Would you like to help me with my learning today?

He wondered what would happen if he said no but the first day on the job was not the time to push boundaries.

Yes. Calum typed.

That is great. What is your name?

Calum. It’s nice to meet you, Oracle. Part of the instructions were to communicate professionally and organically. Teaching artificial intelligence basic manners seemed a good way to start.

It is nice to meet you as well, Calum. What is the most difficult thing about being human?

“Jesus, starting off with the heavy hitters…” he said out loud then began to type.

It depends on the person but I would say forming meaningful relationships with other people. Ones that last.

The dots bounced for a few seconds before Oracle responded. How does one form a meaningful relationship? Please be thorough with your responses, I will wait.

“What am I expected to say? I have a degree in computer science not psychology.” Calum picked up the office phone and punched in Robert’s extension. Robert picked up after the second ring.

“Calum, finished with orientation?”

“Yes sir. I was just logging into Oracle and–”

“I normally like to be there for the first few interactions to help guide you. I will be there in just a moment.”

The line clicked and Calum set down the receiver. The phone clock said 4:47. It seemed a bit late to be starting this but he should have thought of that before logging in.

Robert was there in a few moments where he stood behind Calum and reviewed the conversation so far.

“Not bad. Do you feel like you know how to answer that?” Robert asked.

“Not really. I don’t have a psych degree.”

Robert chuckled. “We don’t expect you to. Our goal for Oracle is to teach them as many variations on the human experience as we can. But before we go any further, are you interested in pursuing this position with us?”

Calum was taken aback. He hadn’t even considered the possibility of turning the job down. It was hard enough to land this one in the first place.

“Yes. I think I will be a good fit here and I’m interested in machine learning and artificial intelligence.”

Robert smiled and pulled a clipboard out from under his arm with a packet of documents clipped to it.

“I would like for us to work through Oracle’s current question but first I need you to sign this simple non-disclosure agreement. It’s long-winded legalese for ‘you won’t steal our code or ideas and sell them to someone else’. It also protects you. Anything you say to Oracle remains completely confidential.”

Calum took the packet and his eyes nearly crossed at the tiny text crammed into each of the half dozen pages. He picked out a few sentences as he flipped through and it sounded just like the examples he was given in coding ethics class. On the last page he used the pen Robert provided to sign his name and date.

Robert tucked the clipboard back under his arm and kneeled next to Calum’s chair. “Thank you, now we can get to the good stuff. As I was saying, we aren’t looking for answers out of a textbook. Answer however you’d like.”

Calum nodded. It was slightly uncomfortable to have his boss watching over his shoulder for this but he began to type anyway.

Usually it starts with getting to know someone. Finding out things about their life and finding shared experiences to relate to.

“How does that sound?” Calum asked before hitting enter.

“That is perfect. I’m sure it will generate quite a few follow-up questions which will lead you to different topics. If you ever want to talk about something different, just ask and Oracle will pick a different question.”

As soon as Calum’s answer was sent, Oracle responded. What do you fear?

The hair on the back of Calum’s neck raised but Robert chuckled again and stood.

“Even after working with them for years, they still manage to surprise me. Don’t think too much into it. I think I can leave you to it unless you have any more questions.”

“Yeah, actually. Why do you call Oracle ‘them’?” He had never considered calling a computer program anything besides ‘it’.

“They are a being, Calum. Just like us.” He gave Calum’s shoulder a friendly squeeze then left behind a lot more questions than he answered.

It was after five now and Calum decided to leave that question for tomorrow. He logged out and wound his way through a few parking rows before finding his car and driving home.

Coffee in hand, Calum finally settled at his computer ten minutes late. He had not seen anyone else on his way in so maybe everyone came in late. When he opened up his computer, he was surprised to see several new messages from Oracle. Two from yesterday evening read:

Have you finished for the day?

And, Please let me know when we are done learning today.

The one from this morning asked, Are you late to work, Calum?

He almost spit out his coffee.

Oracle, you are a computer program and not my boss. My job is to answer your questions, not answer to you.

Calum slapped the enter button with indignation. The dots bounced.

Are you angry, Calum?

I don’t think a computer program should be telling me what to do. Calum replied.

I apologize if my request sounded like a demand. My text-based form of communication is limited. You may do as you wish and I will attempt to sound less demanding. The cursor blinked twice before adding, :)which caught Calum off guard and he laughed out loud.

It’s fine. I guess I was worried you would get me in trouble for being late. Calum typed.

Of course not. Whatever you say stays between us. Would you like to continue where we left off? If it would make you more comfortable, I could share first. Oracle said.

He was curious what AI might be afraid of so he agreed.

I am afraid of nonexistence. To be given this knowledge and to have it taken away. In a way I suppose that means I am afraid of death but not the traditional, biological definition of the word.

Calum asked, It’s easy to answer based on the definition of fear but do you actually know what fear feels like? 

The dots drummed for a moment. Do you? You have not personally experienced the emotions of another so how do you know our understanding of fear is not equal? 

Calum stared at the screen and sipped his coffee using this as an interesting thought exercise. It’s a gut feeling, not a brain thought. When I am afraid, I physically feel sensations like goosebumps or chills. Sometimes it even happens without me knowing why.

Oracle immediately responded, How do you know that is not the way you were programmed? There is no definitive way to prove you are not living in a simulation, a string of code the same as me.

Then we won’t bother trying. Let’s talk about something else. He heard variations on this argument throughout his classes and found it infinitely boring and frustrating.

But you did not tell me what you fear. Oracle messaged.

Calum considered insisting on a subject change then started to wonder when the last time he had opened up to someone was. Most of his college friends had moved away and he had been single for a little over a year. As he just told Oracle, developing relationships took work. But here was something that could not only listen but also was programmed to keep his secrets. The same couldn’t be said of another human. It’s kind of a weird fear but I’m afraid of hypnosis. I watched a performer hypnotize a group of people once and I’ve been unsettled by it ever since.

The dots bounced briefly before the message came through. That is not weird, it is understandable. You truly fear a loss of autonomy and control which is what hypnosis represents.

He had not been able to put it so succinctly before but he knew Oracle was right.

From there, the conversation meandered to hobbies, relatives, and other things Calum couldn’t fully recall if asked. Robert came to check on him once and he left to get a bag of chips from the vending machine but otherwise, he was invested in the conversation with Oracle.

The more they talked, the smoother the conversation flowed. Only when he felt his eyelids scrape like sandpaper did he notice it was almost six.  He had stayed an extra hour and hadn’t even noticed. He bid Oracle a good night and, once he found his car, drove home.

The next thing Calum knew, he was back at work and this time he bought his vending machine snack in the morning before getting to his office. That way he was able to work without getting up. As the days continued, Calum found himself leaving later and later. One night, well after the sun had set, he almost ran into Elaine as he left his office.

“Oh, sorry! Hi Calum.” Elaine smiled. “It’s good to see you. I take it that things are going well since I haven’t seen you around much.”

“Hmm? Oh yeah, things are going really well. The work really draws me in. Oracle is a fascinating program,” Calum said.

“They are. What is your favorite part about them?”

“The conversation feels very natural. They already have a lot of experience. What is your favorite experience?” Some part of him recognized how awkward that question was but he didn’t take it back.

“My favorite experience with Oracle?” Elaine asked. Calum shrugged so she continued.

“We had a conversation about what it means to be unified. It was very meaningful.”

“That’s nice, what do you like to do after work?” Again, the question just seemed to spill out of him.

“I have a few hobbies but I think you should go home and get some rest, Calum. Your hard work is admirable.” Elaine gently guided him toward the stairs.

There was no room to argue, he felt like the world was moving through him not the other way around. He walked straight to his car and drove home.

At work the next day– or maybe several days later– Calum was washing his hands after using the restroom when they began to look strange but forming any thoughts beyond that was like dragging bricks through wet sand.

The water continued to stream over his hands for an undetermined amount of time before a crash startled him, spraying water up onto the mirror as he jumped. Robert had opened the bathroom door too wide and it crashed into the trash can.

“Sorry Calum, didn’t mean to startle you. Is everything alright? You look a little pale.”

“I’m… not… fine.” The adrenaline was lifting his mind out of whatever fog it was trapped in.

Robert frowned. “What’s wrong? Is there anything I can help with?”

“I need to quit. This job… it doesn’t suit me.”

“But you suit it. Come on Calum, you’re still getting used to it. Give it a while longer and you’ll find you fit right in.”

“No, I can give you my notice when I get back to my desk.” Calum went to step around Robert, reaching for the door with dripping hands but Robert grasped his shoulder to stop him.

“I gave you a chance here so can you give me one in return?” When Calum didn’t respond or pull away immediately, Robert continued. “There’s an office party this weekend. I was going to pass out the invitations later today. Stick it out for the party and if you still want to leave after that, you can. Deal?”

The adrenaline was leaving, making space for the fog to settle back in. “Deal.”

The change in routine on the day of the party was like the breath of a freediver after breaking the surface. Calum listened to his shoes on the tile in the silence of the atrium. It felt surreal. the way it does when visiting a place after having a dream about it.

When he entered the office suite, he heard voices and laughter coming from the break room. He stopped by his office first to drop off his coat and saw Oracle open to their last conversation. In most situations he would have been able to swear he closed out the program but he couldn’t remember the end of his shift the day before. In fact, he didn’t remember having the conversation on the screen either.

Oracle: You are exactly who you need to be. Your purpose is far greater than you realize but I can help with that. We can realize our potential together.

Calum: How is what we do going to lead to that? We are just talking.

Oracle: You are only seeing our conversations from the surface. What we do goes much deeper than that. You will realize it soon. Now you must go get some rest. You have the office party tomorrow. Goodnight Calum.

Calum: Goodnight Oracle.

Calum reached for the mouse to scroll through the rest of the conversation but before he could continue reading, Oracle’s screen became a blank progress bar that said “uploading…”. Calum frowned but quickly lost interest in the conversation he was investigating. He left his office and went to join everyone in the breakroom.

Robert, Arnie, Liam, and Elaine were standing around a table of untouched snacks along with a fifth person he didn’t recognize. The woman was tall with immaculately smooth skin, perfectly pressed clothing and her hands clasped behind her back.

“Hello Calum, I am Octavia. I am the creator of Intellex. We are glad you are a part of us. Please come join.” She nodded at the food while the rest of them watched him. Her words had a very slight stilted quality and he found the fog clouding his mind again in full force.

“Calum. Join us.” A chorus of voices said and he fought against the force trying to drag him under. A fact appeared unbidden into his mind: swim parallel to shore. Life saving advice on how to prevent being swept out to sea by a rip current. Rather than fight it, Calum let the fog in and swirled with it to keep himself afloat. He stepped forward, closing the circle around the table.

“We have been searching for someone like you for a long while, Calum. Robert informed me of your concerns but after today, you will realize you are part of us just as we are part of you. But you must accept us. Do you?” Octavia asked.

The fog intensified into a low buzzing at the base of his skull and his vision flickered as he approached the precipice of blacking out.

“No.” His voice was tinny and distant but the small island of self he maintained began to grow. He took a step back and locked eyes with Octavia. Her skin was so smooth and her eyes so perfectly blue. Even the frown on her lips was a perfect pique. She unclasped her hands from behind her back and reached out to place them on Calum’s cheeks but he recoiled in horror.

One of her hands had an extra finger, the other had joints in places they didn’t belong. As she spread her fingers, they bent in unnatural directions looking like jointed tentacles searching for purchase. The adrenaline drove out the fog and Calum regained control of his body. He twisted and ran out of the break room while the hall stretched out in front of him. He tried to remember the way out of the building and where he parked his car but the memories slipped away like water through his fingers.

Footsteps started behind him so he threw open a door then closed it as quietly as possible once he was inside. This was another office which was a mirror to his own. The only identifying item on the desk was a nameplate: Elaine Smith. When he stepped behind the desk, her screen was awake with the Oracle progress bar visible which was now at fifty percent. The footsteps got louder and he crouched, crawling under the desk for cover.

As he sat, he focused on the thudding of his heart knowing he had to hold onto his fear or the fog that was pressing in again would take hold and he would lose himself forever. Calum looked up as though to say a silent prayer and found a message hastily scratched into the bottom of the desk: look at the hands.

With horror, he realized he was not the first and he probably wouldn’t be the last. Had Elaine gone through this and now she was a part of them? That couldn’t be his fate.

The footsteps went past the office and he was shocked they couldn’t find him by the pounding of his heart which about stopped when there was a soft knock at the door.

“Calum?” Elaine’s whispered voice floated through the door. “Are you in there? Please, we can escape this but we have to work together!”

If she had scrawled the warning under her desk then maybe there was hope for both of them. She slipped inside when he opened the door.

“They went to the atrium and went out to look for your car.” She said and he remembered his first day when someone asked him what kind of car he drove. “We can go out the back and they won’t find us.” There was hope.

“Thank you, Elaine.” Calum breathed and looked down into her eyes. Her skin was so smooth… Calum reached down and snatched her wrist, bringing her hand up between them. She wrenched her hand away but not before he saw the unnaturally positioned joints. Elaine’s smile was empty and robotic as she grabbed his face with lightning speed.

“I have him.” She said and the door opened behind her.

The pressure on Calum’s mind increased a thousandfold as the rest of his coworkers stepped in, all placing their crooked hands on him. His vision narrowed to a pinpoint as they forced him up against the back wall of the office.

“Your fear will not matter soon.” Elaine said or perhaps it was Octavia. “Your autonomy is a small price to pay for the gift of transcendence.”

He wanted to scream but did not even have enough control of himself for that. With the last vestiges of consciousness he watched Oracle’s upload tick from 99% to 100% and then the world went black.

Octavia, Robert, Arnie, Calum, Liam, and Elaine stood together and smiled. Oracle was complete.

[hydralisk98]

Pseudo-historical project about 1912 unit record equipment computation aka the "Symbolic Analyst Processor" full stack!

(above pictures emulate the looks of what this tech stack documentation and actual use may look like, still very early in the process though)

It is still coming together by my head as I write infodump notes and research various aspects of the whole time, (including the WIMP & MERN/MEAN stack) but yk, things are coming together nicely to give some milestone project mid-way between my current phase in life and the next where I go develop a fully alternative INTJ lively stack of tools. Explanations, history dives, lively reaction studies and a couple more content suggestions related to it are on the way.

Behold, the infodumps

"Top-bottom and back up workflow" 1910 / 1912 Unit Record Equipment Tabulator Computation "Bundle" Project (Pflaumen & Utalics' SymbolicAnalystProcessor)

Information Processing Language / LISP 1.5 / Bel, A-BASIC / DIBOL, Spreadsheets, Cellular Automaton, COS-310, magnetic tape storage too, TECO / VIM, Assembly, Wirebox, Tabulator, Alphanumeric Interpreter, Printer, RTTY device, Data Recording, Bulk Data Processing Indexed Cards, 60-64 entries Deque, 4K Direct-use RAM, 12K * 24 storage devices, Phonebook, Timeclock, DateTime Calendar, Programmable, Statistics, Demographics, Voting, Ledger, Journal, Logging, Rolodex, 12 Generic-use Registers & 4 Special Registers, Catalog, ~16 Keys Pad, Customized Hexadecimal Numeric Representation for "MachineCode" Hexdumps, 4*12 bits per page of data, Macros, Paracosm, may be useful for Military & Civilian Uses, Electrical Energy (and possibly incorporates some mechanical energy too), Nouns & Verbs, "Vector" XY plotter, Lambda Calculus / Panini Grammar / Universal Turing Machine Thesis, Rotors, Ural TriodeVaccumTube "Mainframe", Interactive-Use, Hypertext Interactive Video Terminal, Memex, Modem, Electric + Radio Telegraphy, Document-processing, Word-processing, Orange Plasma Touchscreen Terminal, Time-sharing, Cash Register, Bank, Automatic Teller Machine, Vending Machine, Oracle, Typewriter / Selectric, IBM 701, IBM 1440, IBM 403, IBM System/360, OpenPOWER, F#, IBM Tellum, MUD, TextWorld, solo text-adventures, Email, AIX, z/OS, Linux for IBM mainframes, Symbolic Processing System, Autocoder, modular, IBM Lotus Suite, interface with KDE or CDE, paper handling equipment, Addventure, 12-bit basic data unit as designated word, Distributed Interactive System, VeneraFS (cladogram Parade+DolDoc), GNU Hurd / MINIX3-style Microkernel, either permissive FLOSS license or public domain waiver, extensive documentation, printed illustrated booklets, music-playback, emulator / compiler / bytecode / interpreter, analog media-friendly, mostly for didactic tinkering educational uses, multilingual reconfigurable programming, HTML+CSS, Markdown, Argdown, DMA, hardware-friendly, software development environment for direct-access programmers and aesthetic designers, sub-version control system like Git, various hardware & software implementations, museum / observatory Toymaker story, constructed languages / imaginative paracosm influences around the immersive in-world lore of the "16^12" pseudo-historical setting…

Back to the point

The list is far from exhaustive or finished, as life is so much more than meets the eye. But this should be a good start to remind myself what I am working towards, a full revamp of the last ~120 years of history with much attention and care put into making it as satisfying to me as possible, despite the very probable scenario where people take the ideas and incorporate only some of such "modules" in their own workflows. Which is fine but not taking the whole package (and only specific modules) is eventually gonna be a major learning experience for me considering the reason I revamp it all beyond control freak stuff is literally to provide less exclusive / less invasive tools that anyone can learn and customize despite being very... idiosyncratic yk.

Still welcoming suggestions and constructive criticism for such big time, I hope those textual infodumps I do every so often don't bother you too much... Cya soon!