'A Tough Day for Sales' by Eric Fomley

 Vendbot climbed the stadium stairs with the drink tray slung around its neck.

“Ice cold beer, get your ice cold beer here!”

It had been a tough day for sales. If Vendbot didn’t sell one soon the stadium manager might send it back to ticket sales. The thought made it’s internal hardware jostle.

“Ice cold beer!”

The bot did a slow pirouette to see if anyone was glancing it’s way, but the crowd didn’t budge. It was the fourth quarter of a shootout between rival teams and everyone was transfixed on the field below.

Vendbot upped the ante.

“Two beers for just a buck, get ‘em while they last!”

That trick always worked.

Up in row thirteen a man looked right at the bot. Vendbot whirled, clicked, and bounded up the stairs to stand over the slouched man. He wore a home team jersey with a matching wig.

“Would you like a couple of beers, sir?”

He ignored the bot, stared aimlessly at the field.

“What about a bag of peanuts?”

Nothing.

Vendbot roved its head toward the field, trying to figure out what was so captivating. It was still the middle of the fourth quarter and both teams were lined up midfield. The play hadn’t started yet, hadn’t for a long time.

The bot’s eyes lit up. The upper deck, maybe someone needed a beer up there!

With it’s tray of rusty beer cans in tow, Vendbot left the skeletons of the lower deck behind.