Despite that, at the Hangout, most patrons were prepared to vote no. Many were older people who had worked for years around the Varvakeios Agora, Athens’s century-old meat and fish market, where the taverna is located. Steeped in memories of being ruled by a military junta, of a civil war and the Nazi invasion during World War II, they reasoned in terms of dignity.

“A no vote does not mean we want to get out of Europe,” said Dimitris Kopamos, 70, a butcher at the market for 50 years. “It’s a message that we will no longer live under a yoke.” He stabbed the air with a steak knife. “We don’t want pensioners to get more cuts, or to see taxes on food and other products rise to 23 percent,” he said, complaining that already he could barely make ends meet. “Now the banks are closed, and we can’t pay our employees. If this keeps up, there will be a revolution. We must vote no.”

Alexis Giannopoulis, 53, a butcher from a neighboring stall, sniffed with disdain. “The situation could get much, much worse,” he warned the others. “If we vote no, the banks won’t open. If we vote yes, it’ll be hard for several months, but that would be better than coming out of the euro.”

He swept his eyes across the market, where rows of bloody meat carcasses swung, unsold, on hooks. Since Mr. Tsipras came to power, Mr. Giannopoulis said, his sales had slumped 40 percent. “People don’t have money to buy meat; and when they do, they’re buying chicken because it’s cheaper,” he said.

He lifted his shirt and revealed a pistol he had started bringing everywhere after draining his bank account and carrying wads of euros to pay suppliers, who now demand cash up front. “We need to be ready for everything,” he said. “If there’s a no vote and the drachma returns, there will be no money, and things will turn to utter chaos.”