Yesterday I had lunch in Da Capo in Vienna.
While I was eating a man came in, he was brought to a table not far from me (the restaurant was fairly empty) for one moment he looked at me rather intensely.
I looked back and I saw Peter Handke.
Or a doppelganger.
I looked again. No, definitely, Handke.
Handke ordered a glass of Sekt, drank more than half of it in about ten minutes. Then he paid (cash) and left. His tip was generous.
I had the feeling that nobody else in Da Capo had recognized Handke, but maybe the guests and the staff were just polite.