In a plot twist that would make even the most jaded urbanite shed a single, caffeinated tear, Seattle’s most enigmatic resident quietly vanished into the night in 2018, leaving behind only a handwritten goodbye note and two decades of carbonated memories.
The star of this fizzy farewell? A beat-up 1970s Coca-Cola machine that had been living its best independent life on East John Street in Capitol Hill, right outside Broadway Locksmith. For roughly twenty years, this vending machine operated in a state of beautiful anarchy—nobody knew who owned it, nobody seemed to care, and it just kept dispensing sugary happiness like some sort of benevolent street prophet.
The machine was a master of gradual price inflation, starting at a modest 55 cents in 2002 (when flip phones were still cool), creeping up to 75 cents by 2014, and finally hitting the dollar mark just as Seattle decided to tax the joy out of sweetened beverages in early 2018. Talk about reading the room.
But here’s where it gets beautifully weird: instead of simply disappearing like a deadbeat roommate, this mechanical marvel left a farewell note. The exact contents remain mysterious, but one can only imagine it read something like, ‘Dear Seattle, it’s not you, it’s the soda tax. XOXO, Your Friendly Neighborhood Pepsi Pusher.’
The machine’s disappearance marked the end of an era when things could just… exist without permits, ownership disputes, or corporate overlords. It was peak Seattle quirk—a reminder that sometimes the most beloved city fixtures are the ones that make absolutely no sense but somehow work perfectly anyway.
Original story via Boing Boing