Awkward

So the four of us are sitting at a table in this little dive bar that says it's Irish. There are only two beers on tap - neither of them Guinness - and the bartender looks vaguely Hispanic. It's a Thursday and the place is pretty empty. The football game is as good as over and a band of some sort is setting up. It doesn't look like anything we want to hang around for but we're about to head over to the pool hall down the street so that's just as well. A woman walks over to our table, "Do you guys like country?" Not so much, we've been paying the jukebox to play Iron Maiden and Black Sabbath. We shake our heads. "Why would they bring a country band in here if nobody likes country?" she says. We don't know. "Maybe they should have a vote or something," I say. She shakes her head and moves on; we shrug and turn back to our conversation and our beers. I feel vaguely sorry for the band. It's bad enough that there are less than twenty people here and we're about to leave, now they have someone actively lobbying against them. or something...
I glance over to where they are setting up. Is that really the same anti-country lady over there checking the microphone? It really is. Apparently not so anti-country after all - she's the singer for the band.