KATINK...CHANG. The sound is permanently burned into my memory now. KATINK...CHANG. It invades my dreams. KATINK...CHANG. I think back on it now and still have to shake my head in amazement. It started 3 weeks ago Wednesday.

I was making my way home from work and decided to take a new route. I only live about a mile and a half from the office so I usually walk figuring the exercise would do me some good. Enjoying the scenery along a road I had never been on before I came to an old gas station that looked as though it had been out of business for a couple of years. Outside of the station building was a Coke machine that was apparently still in operation. This in itself struck me as a little odd, but I didn't think too much on it as my attention was drawn to the man standing about ten feet in front of it.

His appearance didn't seem too out of the ordinary at first glance, but it didn't take long to notice that something was very odd indeed about this man. He wasn't moving and at his feet was a white 5-gallon bucket. From my angle I couldn't see what was in it, but soon my curiosity was satisfied as he reached down into the bucket and pulled out a handful of quarters. I found myself wondering why he needed so many drinks and why he didn't bring the bucket closer to the machine instead of walking with the handful of change. Wondering, that is, until he slowly, methodically took a single quarter with his other hand and threw it at the machine. It flew straight and true the entire ten feet and bounced off of the coin slot with a resounding KATINK and promptly fell to the ground and made a very unsatisfying CHANG as it hit the rather large pile of quarters that I had somehow not noticed before this point. I was stunned.

With absolutely no expression on his face about what had just happened to the last quarter and what may happen with the next he grabbed another and tossed it at the machine. KATINK...CHANG. He flicked it backhand style like it was a ninja throwing star. I stood perplexed as I watched him ritualistically repeat this process over and over again. There must have been several hundred dollars worth of quarters around the base of the coke machine. I also noticed that at his feet was a chalk line that he had apparently drawn as a standing point. I thought to myself: "what patience, what an optimist, what an idiot!" He'd be here for a long time trying to hit that slot. I watched for a few more minutes and noticed that several people passed by without even paying him any attention. Apparently he had already been here a long time as the locals didn't even flinch as they passed. As I watched a bit longer, I noticed that he had gotten quite good as every quarter came within an inch of the slot and pretty much matched the angle of the slot when it hit. But that slot was still only a hair's width larger than the quarters. Can't be done. I wanted to stay longer and watch but it was already starting to get dark so I continued home, my head full of wonder.

I had trouble sleeping that night. Why in the world was I still thinking about the Coke Machine Ninja? He obviously had a few screws loose and whether or not he ever hit that slot wouldn't affect the rest of my life one bit. But still I thought about him. My head was full of the sound of the quarters bouncing off of the Coke machine and into the pile as I finally dozed off. The next day at work was the longest of my life. I couldn't concentrate. All I could think about was that pile of quarters lying there almost mockingly. Would he be there again today? Would any quarters actually go in? I'd try to take my mind off of it by thinking of something else...ANYTHING. What did my wife pack in my lunch? KATINK...CHANG. The movie I saw last week. KATINK...CHANG. Sex. KATINK...CHANG. It was no use, it had become an obsession. I sneaked out five minutes early and ran this time to the gas station. I was greeted by a familiar sound. KATINK...CHANG. He was still there.

Today it was different, awkward. I already knew what to expect so the shock had worn off and now I realized that I was just standing there watching a man who I had determined to be quite insane. But was my behavior any better than his? I felt like a voyeur, just standing there, watching. But I didn't care, I had to watch. I wanted to talk to him, ask him so many questions. Why? How long? Can I introduce you to a psychiatrist friend of mine? But I just couldn't bring myself to speak to him. It was just too awkward. How do you approach a man who is assaulting a Coke machine with a bucket or quarters? He seemed harmless enough, but the situation was just too strange. I knew I couldn't stand there forever, but what should I do? Time flew by. KATINK...CHANG.

Finally, I managed to work up enough nerve to move from the spot I had confined myself to for the better part of an hour and approached the machine. As I walked toward it, my heart pounded. What would he do? Would he even notice me? After what felt like an eternity, I reach the machine and almost slip on the pile of quarters. I take a glance at the ninja. He simply stopped and waited patiently while I fed the machine. It took me a second to make my selection. What did I want? I didn't really want a drink, I was just testing the waters. I hit a random button, took my drink, and scurried away in what I afterward realized was too much of a hurry. The peculiar feeling hit me again, only magnified. He didn't seem to notice. Or did he just not care? KATINK...CHANG. He resumed as though I had never existed. Somehow this made me feel more awkward than ever and finally I had to just go on home.

Another sleepless night. Why was it so awkward. Why was I so intimidated by a man who obviously couldn't care less whether or not I existed? He seemed so oblivious to my presence I could probably go back with my own bucket, catch the falling quarters and walk away without him even noticing. Not that I had any interest in his money, or the possibility of getting a quarter embedded in the back of my skull over a pile of pocket change. Why couldn't I just march right up to the mysterious man and open a dialog? Tomorrow, I told myself, I would do just that. Finally having the matter settled in my mind I tried to get some sleep. Hopeless. Count sheep. Hopeless. Count quarters. Dreamland. The next day, I couldn't bare it anymore. I took a half-day and bailed out at noon. It was Friday and nobody would care. Many did it on a regular basis. What's four less hours of vacation time compared to watching quarters chip the paint off of a Coke machine?

KATINK...CHANG. This time I heard the friendly, yet forbidding sound before I even got to the gas station. Or was it just my imagination? Lack of sleep taking it's toll on me perhaps? Nothing had changed. Same Coke machine, same bucket, same lunatic. I had spent the morning rehearsing what I would say so THIS time, I was ready! Or so I thought. As soon as I was again confronted with an actual face to face exchange, my guts fell once again. NO! I'm not going to just stand here spineless for the rest of the day. I approached the man with a boldness that was quite faked and...I still didn't know what to say to the man. Finally, I heard the words come out of my mouth. "Ever hit any?" Did I say that? Why that? There were more important questions! I stood there kicking myself as he flung another quarter at the machine. After it had hit the pile he paused and spoke. "Nope". A rush of relief suddenly swept over me. I had made contact! And just as suddenly, everything else that I wanted to ask became not-so important anymore. So he DID see me there. He DID hear and even responded! This was actually a person I was looking at. He was still odd, but at least he wasn't the robot I had been beginning to suspect.

I didn't ask or say anything else after that. There was no need. It just didn't matter anymore. I could now watch without the feeling of being an intruder onto the Coke Machine Ninja's domain. He knew of my presence and did nothing about it. This, I knew, was the closest thing to an invitation I was going to get. I stayed and watched for the rest of the day. Still wondering how I could be entertained by flying quarters for so long. I watched as he threw the last quarter from the bucket, carried it to the machine gathered all of the quarters back into the bucket and started all over again. What passion, what determination, what dedication! In a strange way, I felt as though I had somehow bonded with the Coke Machine Ninja. I found myself routing for him inside. Hoping that each quarter would be the one. Wondering what the machine might be thinking were it conscious.

I almost didn't notice. Watching a thousand quarters bounce off of a coke machine tends to dull the senses, but something was different. The sound. The sound was not the same. Foreign. Tinkachink kachank kachunk. I quickly realized what had happened as the sound continued. Tinkita tankita tink tank tink was the sound now emanating from the machine as the quarter made it's way past the coin validator. And finally tinkitiching as it came to rest in the coin return slot. DENIED!

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