Texas Monthly reports that a new vending machine, not far from a middle school, sells bullets.

What’s next? A vending machine that sells handguns? Or a vending machine that makes 3-D printed guns?

This time of year, shoppers who set foot inside Lowe’s Market in downtown Canyon Lake, are usually looking for two things: swimming gear and beer. The cramped and busy grocery store, which is located about an hour north of San Antonio and whose wide selection of disparate items gives it the feel of a mini-Walmart, is often the last stop for supplies before locals and tourists float down the nearby Guadalupe River, a Texas summer tradition. 

But for the last two weeks, something else has lured an endless stream of outdoor enthusiasts, ranchers, gun lovers, and tourists into the store, often with looks of excitement and curiosity splashed across their faces. It’s not the fresh produce, the sunscreen, or even the generous selection of wine and beer. They want to glimpse an audacious intersection of consumer technology and weaponry—an interactive, two-thousand-pound ammunition dispenser. Sandwiched between a small ATM and a row of ice machines near the store’s front entrance, the double-walled, triple-locked steel vault wrapped in an American flag decal beckons customers to swipe their credit card with a simple tagline: “Need to reload?” Online, the company’s motto advertises “Ammo Sales Like You’ve Never Seen Before.”

For some locals, the patriotic kiosk, which has already been restocked once after selling out, is a source of convenience, a clever idea that saves a trip to the nearest sporting goods store, which is 32 miles away in San Marcos. For others, it’s a transgressive delight, an almost comical reminder of the rights that many Texans hold dear. And for a few others, the machine is a disturbing eyesore, particularly because the first ammo vending machine in Texas is located next to a local middle school at a time when the mass shootings of children in Uvalde and Santa Fe High remain a fresh memory in many minds. During the school year, that Lowe’s Market location is frequented by teenage customers, especially after classes let out. Last week, a USA Today columnist wrote that the machines, juxtaposed with bananas and diapers, felt like “something out of a dystopian novel.” So far, at least, the curiosity—and controversy—have been great for business. “That machine has been the talk of the town,” the store’s general manager, who asked not to be named, told me as customers stopped to gawk at the kiosk on a recent Saturday.