Machinocide

For two years, Robert Goines had been feeding nickels and dimes to the soft-drink vending machine in his Indianapolis service station. Often enough, the machine simply swallowed the coins without disgorging a bottle of pop. In all, Goines calculates he lost more than $25 down the slot.

By last Dec. 29, Goines had had enough, as he told an Indianapolis court last week. He had to give refunds to two customers who lost their money to the device, then it took Goines' own 15-c-. "I shook that machine," Goines testified. "Then I walked over to the desk drawer, got my .22-cal. revolver, and I went over and shot the machine dead! After I fired the shot, I looked at that machine and I said, That's the last time you're going to cheat anybody.' " The municipal judge was not amused; he fined Goines $160 and gave him ten days in jail for disorderly conduct, drawing a gun and firing it within city limits. Goines had obviously touched a responsive chord, however, among everyone who has ever been bamboozled by machinery. As Goines prepared an appeal, a group of Indianapolis lawyers volunteered to help with his case, and one sympathizer even offered to serve part of his jail term for him. But even from the grave, the machine enjoyed a kind of victory over its human foe.

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