In the consultation room, a woman in her sixties sat bolt upright, her expression as serious as if discussing matters of national importance.
“Doctor, is there any way to help my husband regain... that desire?” She lowered her voice, but still couldn’t help blushing. “We’ve been married for so many years, and now he won’t even touch me.”
The doctor pushed up his glasses, thought for two seconds, and said: “Try Viagra.”
The old woman immediately shook her head, 'Impossible. He won't even take his regular medicine properly when he's sick, let alone this kind of medicine.'
“That’s okay.” The doctor waved it off, “Crush the Viagra and put it in the coffee; he won’t notice at all. Try it for a week first, then come back and tell me how it goes.”
The old woman left, half-believing and half-doubting.
Three days later, she chose a Starbucks she often went to. The two of them sat by the window. While her husband was in the restroom, she took the ground-up powder and poured it into his hot latte, then stirred it gently with a spoon.
After her husband came back, he picked up the cup and took a big gulp.
The effect came much faster than she had imagined.
In less than ten minutes, the husband’s breathing suddenly grew heavier, his eyes went blank, and his whole body seemed ignited. First he shoved the cup aside, then even flipped up the tablecloth, his movements fast and fierce. Before the old woman could react, a tear had already been ripped in her clothes.
“W-wait a second... this is...”
Before she could finish speaking, her husband had already pressed her down onto the seat.
The other customers at Starbucks were stunned at first, then someone screamed, someone took out their phone, and the staff rushed over but couldn't intervene at all. Under the watchful eyes of everyone, the two completed an unreserved, exceptionally wild 'exchange'.
After everything ended, the husband leaned back in his chair, panting heavily, his expression satisfied as if he had come back to life. The old woman, however, stood frozen in place, clothes disheveled, hair messy, her face filled with 'What have I done?'
A week later, she called the doctor, her voice still trembling.
"Oh, doctor... too scary."
“What’s wrong?” the doctor asked.
"I did as you said, and it took effect too quickly. Very soon, his eyes were blazing with fire, and his pants were directly sticking up. He flipped over the cup and tablecloth, then tore off my clothes and had a wildly rough round... It was terrifying."
The doctor was silent for a second: “How is it terrifying? Did you do it badly?”
The old woman took a deep breath, her voice carrying both lingering emotion and breakdown:
“It’s not bad.
That was the best experience I've ever had.
But the problem is—
I can never go to that Starbucks again.
On the other end of the phone, the doctor was quiet at first, then came the sound of suppressed laughter.
And from that day on, that Starbucks had an unwritten rule: whenever an elderly customer who looked 'exceptionally spirited' ordered coffee, the staff would take a second look and quietly seat them farther from the windows.
Later, the old woman switched to another coffee shop three streets away. Every time she passed the original Starbucks, she would unconsciously quicken her pace, her ears slightly burning.
Some medicine works.
Some memories are too effective.
So effective that it makes people afraid to order a second cup of coffee.
After hanging up the phone, the doctor leaned back in his chair and laughed for a long time.
He had practiced medicine for decades and had seen all kinds of bizarre cases, yet he rarely encountered one that took “therapeutic effect” to a public setting and even had the person himself call to give feedback. He casually noted it in the medical record: Patient feedback good, side effect permanent blacklist from social venues. Then he kept it to himself, turning it into an inside joke he would only occasionally bring up when drinking with colleagues.
The old woman—let's call her Aunt Zhou—was completely dazed after hanging up the phone.
Sitting on the sofa at home, she replayed every second from the Starbucks: the sound of the tablecloth being yanked, the feel of her clothes tearing, the gasps of people around, and her husband's completely unfamiliar, fiery eyes. The physical afterglow hadn't fully subsided, but psychological collapse was already taking over.
“I’m never going again...” she repeated several times to the empty living room.
As for my husband, Lao Zhou, his memory of that day was much hazier. The effect of Viagra came on fast and faded quickly. All he remembered was suddenly feeling very hot and wanting to get close to his wife, and then the world started spinning a bit. By the time he was fully awake, he was already in a taxi heading home. The driver looked at them with a very complicated expression, and only after getting home did Lao Zhou belatedly ask:
“Did we just... do something in the coffee shop?”
Aunt Zhou stared at him, silent for a full ten seconds, finally squeezing out just one sentence: "Think for yourself."
Old Zhou thought for a long time, his face gradually turning red. He didn't ask further, just silently went to take a shower, and after coming out, proactively took care of the household chores for three days.
From that day on, the two of them developed a subtle allergic reaction to the word "coffee."
The coffee machine at home was stuffed by Auntie Zhou into the bottom of the cabinet and never taken out again. When Old Zhou wanted a drink, he would only make tea or drink plain water. Once, when their daughter came back for a visit, she casually said, 'I'll go downstairs to Starbucks to buy two cups.' Auntie Zhou immediately shot her a sharp look:
“Buy something else! Don’t buy Starbucks!”
The daughter was startled, not understanding why, and could only change to buy a different brand.
What truly broke Auntie Zhou was an unexpected reunion half a month later.
She went to the supermarket to buy groceries. When she looked up at the checkout, she found the cashier was one of the baristas from Starbucks that day. The other person clearly recognized her too; the barcode scanner in their hand paused for a moment, then they tried hard to maintain a professional smile but couldn't control the twitching at the corner of their mouth.
Aunt Zhou's grocery bag almost fell to the ground.
After paying, she almost fled the supermarket, only stopping to catch her breath when she reached her doorstep. Old Zhou saw her pale face and asked with concern what was wrong. She just waved her hand: "Nothing... I just suddenly didn't feel like going out anymore."
Later on, she even avoided the new coffee shop that had opened at the entrance to the neighborhood. When someone invited her to senior-citizen activities, as long as the place had even a hint of the word “coffee,” she firmly refused to go. At first, Lao Zhou could still understand it; over time, he started to think it was exaggerated.
“Is it necessary? It’s been so long already.”
Aunt Zhou glared at him: "Of course you wouldn't. Your eyes were blazing with fire back then, but I was fully conscious the whole time!"
Old Zhou was left speechless and could only force a dry laugh.
One night, the two were sitting on the balcony enjoying the cool breeze. The night wind was very comfortable, and Aunt Zhou suddenly spoke up:
“The doctor was right; the effect really is great.”
Old Zhou was taken aback, then a bit embarrassed: 'Then... should we try again? This time at home.'
Aunt Zhou thought for a moment and shook her head: "Forget it. Once is enough. If it happens again, I'm afraid I won't even dare to go to the convenience store near my home."
Old Zhou silently averted his gaze.
Time slowly diluted the awkwardness. A year later, that Starbucks changed its manager, most of the staff from back then had left, and fewer and fewer people knew about the incident. Aunt Zhou would occasionally quicken her pace when passing by, but her heart no longer raced.
Once she was chatting with her old girlfriends, someone complained that their husband 'had no interest.' Aunt Zhou was silent for a long while, then finally said slowly:
“Don’t try coffee carelessly.
Before you try, think about which other store you can still go to."
Her old sisters looked bewildered, but she herself laughed first.
After laughing, she looked at the distant streetlights and suddenly felt that that absurd experience had added a bold, colorful stroke to her plain later years. Although it was expensive—so expensive it cost her a Starbucks lifetime membership—thinking about it occasionally still made the corners of her mouth turn up.
As for Old Zhou, he never asked about the Viagra again.
It’s just that one time, when he passed that Starbucks, he subconsciously glanced at the seat by the window, then quickened his pace to catch up with Aunt Zhou. Their hands lightly brushed under the streetlight, and without saying anything, they both understood: some flavors are too strong, and one taste is enough.
Coffee can be changed, but memories cannot.
And that phrase 'can never go to that Starbucks again' became Aunt Zhou's privately treasured, personal declaration of victory.
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