It all happened innocently enough. The year, 2008. The day, Saturday. The family had nothing to do. With time on our hands and nothing to eat in our fridge, we decided to make a midmorning foray to Aretha Frankensteins, known for their killer breakfast burritos and sloth-paced service. It was busy and already hot outside, and flies were making camp at the tables, so, as fate would have it, we ended up inside next to the Pac-Man arcade machine.