Possibly in a hotel, but I never trust hotel coffee facilities, I think the staff spit in them. But your own sacred kitchen? Really, you want to recreate the bartonfink experience in your own home? I don't. But then I've spent entire decades in hotels. Or so it feels. I only say in hotels as quirky as I can twist the mothership's expense system these days, gawd knows I don't want to see the inside of another Marriott* or Hilton. Kimptons are quite nice and the mothership hasn't yet managed to root them out of the approved list. They bring decent coffee to my room. Mind you, I suppose they might have a Nespresso machine in the kitchen.
*with the exception of the one in Melville, Long Island, which makes me feel like I starring in unshown episode of Space 1999. I once detailed this in a long explanation to younger female colleague (yes, they're safe, I've been married long enough to find other women a foreign country with unfamiliar customs) and about two hours and four drinks later she's (like) what's Space 1999.
Another two hours and four drinks later she probably regretted asking.