There was always a cozy atmosphere in the small coffee shop on the corner of the old street. I was standing behind the counter, lost in thought, when the door opened on the threshold and a tall military man in uniform entered the room. His posture betrayed rigor and discipline, and there was not a smile on his face, not a hint of relaxation. I instantly realized that in front of me was a typical representative of a military fraternity— a man accustomed to order and rules. Gathering my thoughts, I set about making an espresso drink, which I thought was perfect for such a strict client. I already knew all the steps by heart: freshly ground grains, the right water temperature. Every movement was honed to automatism. As the coffee dripped into the cup, I glanced at the military man, observing his behavior. He looked at the menu carefully, but showed no emotion. My heart started beating faster when I finished the espresso and got it ready to serve. At that moment, I was sure that I was about to hear words of admiration from a man who clearly understands coffee. However, when he approached the counter, his voice sounded unexpectedly soft.: -Can I have a vanilla raff, please? I froze, not believing my ears for about three seconds. Vanilla raff? This sweet and delicate drink clearly did not go well with his strict appearance. I felt a wave of confusion wash over me, but I quickly pulled myself together. —Of course, - I replied, trying to hide my surprise. — One vanilla raff! My hand was already working on the machine, mixing milk, vanilla syrup and espresso. I was pressing the button on the coffee machine, and my thoughts were racing in my head.: How can you be so strong and prefer something so gentle at the same time?