Today I came to support a friend's place — 店長鴨血行天宮店.
I had only planned to sit down for some spicy duck blood, support my friend's business, and pretend I was a loyal buddy. But halfway through the meal, my eyes developed a mind of their own and kept drifting toward the coffee shop across the street.
The place across the street is called 富女咖啡, and that name is honestly hard not to get distracted by.
While eating duck blood, I kept wondering, 'How rich do you have to be to call yourself a rich lady? Is your dad surnamed Kuo? Or is he that guy who wears a black leather jacket every day?'
People are like that. Halfway through duck blood, and your soul has already been lured away by a shop name.
Curiosity got the better of me, so I quietly opened Google and looked it up.
I would've been better off not checking. Once I did, I nearly choked on the duck-blood soup.
No kidding — even Sister Chiling had once come here as a “barista for a day.”
(The photos came from Mirror Media and Sister Chiling's IG. Apparently you really do have to be a 'rich lady' to get Sister Chiling to come make coffee.)
Suddenly, it all made sense.
This was no ordinary rich lady. This was a fairy descending to earth to brew coffee.
So I made an extremely mature life decision on the spot:
Once I finished my friend's spicy duck blood, I would walk across the street and buy an Iced Americano.
Then, very deliberately, I'd stand at the entrance and look at my friend's shop from a different angle.
A moment ago I was inside my friend's shop looking at 富女咖啡; now I was outside 富女咖啡 looking back at my friend's shop.
It felt oddly magical, like I'd suddenly secured the best view on the whole street: spicy duck blood on the left, an Iced Americano on the right. My mouth was still spicy, but my mind had already gone upscale.
As I drank, I thought:
“Ha, coffee brewed for me by a rich person.”
At that moment, I was no longer an ordinary passerby.
I was aristocracy for a day.
I'd only paid for an Iced Americano, but mentally I was already in first class, watching my friend cook duck blood across the street.
I have to admit, maybe it was all in my head, but once I remembered that Sister Chiling had once been a barista here, the Iced Americano somehow tasted smoother, more fragrant, and positively fairy-blessed.
It was obviously just an Iced Americano, yet it tasted as if fate itself had applied a filter.
The feeling was roughly this:
Usually coffee wakes me up. Today, coffee raised my social status.
Unfortunately, I am still your standard-issue chubby homebody.
I had a hundred questions I wanted to ask the owner:
“Are you really a rich lady?”
“Does Sister Chiling smell as lovely in person as I imagine?”
“Will my finances improve after I finish this cup?”
“Do you have a Matchmaker-God-blessed edition of the Iced Americano?”
But I just couldn't get the words out.
So in the end I could only sit quietly by the entrance drinking coffee, pretending I understood the finer things in life while my mind kept running wild:
“Owner, if you ever see this post, please answer my questions. I genuinely didn’t dare ask.”
Anyway, today turned into a strangely wonderful outing.
I had only come to support my friend's 店長鴨血, planning to eat a bowl of spicy duck blood, but halfway through, 富女咖啡 across the street stole my soul.
On one side, duck blood with very real heat; on the other, an Iced Americano with its own built-in luxury filter.
This street is dangerous. You finish your meal, buy a coffee, and somehow end up fantasizing that you are rich.
Today's conclusion:
Support my friend's 店長鴨血.
Make a pilgrimage to the coffee at 富女咖啡.
Sister Chiling's blessing is real.
And I am still the timid chubby homebody who couldn't ask the owner a thing and could only go home to write a food post.
