We all know that technology can be unpredictable. Take my coffee thermometer, for example. Yesterday, during rush hour, it decided that black Americano should be served at 100 degrees. I thought, "Well, nothing can go wrong here" — poured the scalding drink into a cup, and went to wipe up milk spills on the counter.

But then, a few minutes later, I heard screams from behind the counter. It seemed my thermometer not only intended to exceed the norm but was also heating the coffee to volcanic eruption levels. A collective prayer from the patrons for the coffee probably saved us: the smoke didn't fill the entire café, just the corner where a lady in a red dress was sitting.

She, reporting on the situation, confidently stated that now coffee for breakfast could be served with a side of charred wall plaster. I chuckled while swirling my milk into the coffee, realizing that the end of the world might just start with an imperfect morning drink. Regardless, serving the lady in the red dress became a warm tradition.