Blinding Flash of the Obvious

I am standing in the kitchenette at work, warming up the flavor-of-the-week-whatever-was-on-sale-for-Five For $10-chicken-pasta-veggie-thingy today and noticed something.
I mean, I notice a lot of things. Clearly, this blog is full of them, but this one came like a flash.
Like many a corporate kitchenette, we are stocked with the usual trimmings: a slew of microwaves for the aforementioned lunches, a fridge that is constantly being cleaned out and threatening notes about Tupperware being posted, a sink that never gets used, the dark water makers posing as coffee machines and vending machines.
We have two machines. One for snix-snacks. And one for sodas.
I was staring off into the distance, willing my lunch to cook faster than the 4 minutes and 30 seconds it needed when I saw on the vending machine numbers braille dots.
You have all seen them. The raised dots to assist people who cannot see. This is nothing new.
But it dawned on me.
Dots on the numbers don't do you any good if you don't know what you are selecting.
There is no voice service that says "B6 - Super Nacho Dorritos" or "E4 - Mini Donuts with Chocolate Coating".
So how on earth is a blind person suppose to actually get value from the dots on the numbers?

Maybe I am just out of it, but this to me seemed, well. Odd.

Now Listening: Color the Small One by Sia