Why does coffee taste better at friends houses?

I was thinking about this because yesterday I went to Marcus's place and that first cup of coffee just hit different, like it had some kind of emotional resonance that my own kitchen can never reproduce no matter how much money i spend on a grinder or whatever, which is funny because my aunt used to make this awful decaf with too many creamers and we would sit in her living room for hours and now i have these vivid memories of the floral wallpaper and the sound of her knitting needles clacking away at nothing while we talked about nothing until it got dark, and that's what i mean by the feeling — it's not the coffee itself because i can literally buy a bag from the same roaster Marcus uses but it's the context and the atmosphere and those little things that make you feel safe enough to actually taste something instead of just drinking it on autopilot while your brain runs through every mistake you made in 2014, which is what my own coffee routine has become basically.