When I was in college, my dorm was being remodeled, and the workers left their tools in the basement near the washing machines… and the candy machines.
I don’t know who would leave a crowbar next to a candy machine at any college, but it was especially foolish at our women’s college. My 5’10” best friend and I were truly the perfect accomplices in this crime. It was an old candy machine with a padlock and a latch over the front, a latch that could be opened. My friend would use her height and wedge the crowbar into that space, and I would slide my small hand into the opening and around whatever was in the first row of the machine: cheese crackers, Snickers, gum.
Not legal, but at least we never stole anything bigger than a Snickers – except for soda.
When I rode horses, my trainer’s son taught how to reach in the opening, press a lever, and get a free soda – it was his dad’s soda machine, he explained, and he needed my hand to reach that bar.
I carried that skill over to the old Coke machines at college. It was a dicier job, for sometimes I would get a small electric shock. Then again, I deserved much worse.