2025 ARTICLE
The Samurai and the Vending Machine
Deep in rural Japan, where rice fields stretch longer than rush-hour apologies, lived an elderly man named Hiroshi, a retired kendo instructor who still wore his hakama every day because “jeans are for cowards.”
One hot summer afternoon, Hiroshi walked to his local train station, as he did every day, to buy his favorite canned coffee from a vending machine. But this time, disaster struck.
The machine ate his 130 yen.
He stood there. Staring.
A normal person might call customer service.
Not Hiroshi.
He unsheathed his bokken (wooden sword, which he always carried because you never know), bowed deeply to the machine, and shouted, “Prepare yourself, dishonorable box!”
He began sparring with the vending machine. A crowd gathered. Nobody dared interrupt. The station manager arrived… and also did not interrupt, because it was a perfect form. Sweaty but graceful.
After a dramatic men-uchi (strike to the head), the machine—miraculously—rattled, buzzed, and ding!
Out popped not one, but three canned coffees.
The crowd cheered.
And to this day, a small sign is taped to that vending machine: “Respect your elders. Especially if they carry a sword.”