The Existential Crisis of an ATM

For those of you who asked when this would be written, the moment to do so had not yet arrived. Today it did.

Busy corner
Long queue
One after another
People came and went.

Familiar footsteps
Familiar face
Déjà vu

For a moment there
So many things to say
How was your day?
How was your week?
How has your life been?
Would you like
Some care and concern with that?
Do you still cry yourself to sleep?
Wanna go for coffee?
So many words
Choked up, in a lump

Whirr, click, cha-ching
Interrupted by
Sighs of impatience

Do you want a receipt?
Yes/No
The moment was over.

I dispense, therefore I am.