Our Coffee Machine Thinks I'm Kevin

The coffee machine began with a reasonable message:

EMPTY WATER TANK

I filled the tank. It thought for several seconds and displayed:

CHECK BEANS

The bean container was full.

“They are right there,” I said.

CHECK ATTITUDE

I unplugged the machine for ten seconds, the universal office ritual for restoring authority. When it restarted, every light flashed once.

WELCOME BACK, KEVIN

My name is not Kevin.

By nine o’clock, three coworkers had gathered around it. Marta pressed espresso. The machine produced hot water. Daniel selected hot water. It produced a perfect espresso and refused to release the cup.

“Maybe it is learning,” Daniel said.

DANIEL OWES MARTA $12

Daniel left immediately.

At lunchtime, Facilities attached an OUT OF ORDER sign. The machine printed a small paper receipt even though it did not contain a printer.

SO ARE MOST MEETINGS

Nobody removed the sign.

The next morning, we found six coffees waiting in a neat row. Each cup had a name written in foam. Mine said Kevin.

I drank it. It was exactly how I liked my coffee.

At 4:55 p.m. the machine made a low beep. The office became quiet.

FINAL WARNING

We waited.

MILK EXPIRES TOMORROW

Marta checked the refrigerator. The milk did expire tomorrow.

Facilities cancelled the replacement order. Daniel paid Marta twelve dollars without explaining why. I stopped correcting the machine about my name.

On Fridays it now displays:

GOOD WORK, KEVIN

It is the most consistent performance feedback I have received.

Cover photo: Unsplash.