A couple of days ago, I had an errand to run in town so I had half an hour to kill before my nature-drawing class started. I decided to have a cup of tea in a café near the classroom. It's the one I call "the drug dealers' café of choice" as you often see some right shifty characters sitting outside in front of it, smoking away.
As I was sitting there, sipping away, four bruisers (Schlägertypen) came in and sat down around a table two tables down from me. From their size, shape and appearance, I assumed they were the kind of men who carried knuckledusters (Schlagringe) in their pockets at the very least. They all looked hard and tough.
Imagine my surprise when I heard what they ordered. I was expecting beer at the very least. Followed by some "whisky chasers", but no.
The first bruiser politely ordered an espresso, the second Orangina, the third a milky coffee and I didn't hear what the fourth ordered as my mind was doing cartwheels. Not what I was expecting at all.