The vending machine is not quite the beast it once was. Sure, I still get that rush of pleasure as I watch my selection successfully navigate its way out of it’s spring down the chute into my grubby little paws, but vending machines these days seem to be going high class. Not only can I get my gluten free, low calorie, soy-potato baked crisps, but I can also do it without spending a dime (because Flex isn’t really money, right?).

I have this problem with vending machines–every time I see one I have a sudden impulse to buy something. The same thing happens with gumball machines. Something about self serve is unavoidable. Add to that impulse the reality of trying to write a paper at midnight in Lerner and suddenly a study break to the vending machine sounds like a fabulous idea.

I am intrigued by the vast selection now available. I remember the days when Hershey and Mars duked it out exclusively with Frito-Lay and Ruffles. But now “healthy habits” have joined the fray, giving the Pinkberry/Tasti fanatics vending options to get excited about. While low calorie snacks make my heart flutter, sometimes I have to wonder if they are worth the novelty.

Exhibit A: Vending machine in Lerner Hall, 1st floor, between the party space and the auditorium entrance. Two snacks sparked my interest: Genisoy’s Barbeque Potato Bakes ($1.50, 80 calories, 4g protein) and Bare Fruit Cinnamon Apple Chips ($1.50, 43 calories, no added sugar). In the name of research and foregoing laundry money for next week, I got both.

The problem with products that are marketed as “healthy” for you is they often are not as good as real food. Genisoy does a decent job of attempting to be an upscale Soy Crisps, but the product falls flat. The delicate crispiness and lip-smacking saltiness of potato chips is replaced by a bland flavor with the crunch of a bag of chips that has been open for a week. For $1.50, the portion is also tiny (though that’s to be expected considering the caloric content).

The cinnamon apple chips, on the other hand, are deliciously crunchy and spicy, with just enough cinnamon to make them taste like dessert. After I was done, my hand kept reaching in the bag for more, since I felt like I had just gotten started. Coincidentally, I had–the bag holds less than an ounce.

Now here I sit, having written exactly zero words on my paper, but oddly content with my vending adventure. Even though the potato bakes let me down, I eye the machine and know that I’ll be back for more at some point. That’s the kind of Tasti mentality I have.