Lisa sat back in her seat, completely content to just enjoy the moments that just happened, and waited for the crowd to clear out before she picked her way out of the arena. She slowly made her way to her truck, a cherry red Toyota Tacoma. She smiled absent-mindedly as she replayed the final match in her head, focusing particularly on how well Sheamus moved, and how he had freckles on his upper back. She got to her truck, hopped in, and started it up. She began to drive towards the highway, but a collision at the big intersection prevented her from carrying on. Instead of taking the long way around she decided to stop into a local pub and have a beer, and by the time she finished, the traffic should be moving again. Lisa knew the area a little bit, so she backtracked a couple of streets, and parked her truck. She went into the Tir Na Nog, a small Irish pub that wasn't usually too crowded, especially on a Sunday night. There were only two other customers, both at a booth in the corner, and it was very quiet, save for the low-key Gaelic music playing over the sound system. The bartender came over, and asked, "Can I get you anythin', missy?"
Lisa replied, "I'll have a pint of Guinness Draught please." The bartender, whose nametag decreed him "Thomas," went off to grab her beer. She played with her phone a bit, checking the weather and her email, and then her beer arrived. It was poured properly, Thomas had even made the little cloverleaf in the head for her. She thanked him sincerely, and went in for the first sip. "Mmmmm," she hummed, then licked her top lip to get the bit of foam that had ended up there. She sat back and relaxed, letting random thoughts flow through her mind. She had no worries, no work in the morning, nowhere important to be, so she just sat, completely content. She savoured her beer slowly, taking small sips and letting it flow around her tongue and teeth before she swallowed, enjoying every bit.
The door of the bar opened, but since Lisa was facing away from the door, she didn't immediately see who came in. She heard the footsteps approach the bar, and a deep Irish brogue said, "Aye friend, can yeh pour me a Guinness? Thank yeh kindly." Lisa turned to sneak a peek, and well shit, standing there was Sheamus. She felt a thrill of nerves flutter all the way up her spine. She was past the age where she felt it was appropriate to ask for an autograph, especially when the poor guy had just spent the better part of an hour getting pummeled and pummeling. Footsteps approached her booth, and she thought it was Thomas, coming to offer her another drink. She glanced up, and there was Sheamus. He was wearing a loose grey fisherman-style knitted sweater, ordinary blue jeans, a tweed flat cap, and heavy brown leather boots. He had a small, shy smile on his face, and definitely wasn't dressed like he was before, but with his pale milky skin and red beard, there was no mistaking who it was. Sheamus said to her, "Hullo miss, would it be alright if I sat a spell with yeh?"
Lisa replied, "Of course! Grab a seat." Sheamus sat down across from her, with his beer in hand. "Nice beer choice," she stated.
"Only the best!" he said in response.
"So I'm pretty sure yeh were at the show earlier?" He said as if it were more of a question than a statement.
"I was! It was my first live show," she replied.
"Did yeh enjoy it?"
"I did! Very much!" Lisa sat back and bit her lip. She didn't want to sound like a crazed fanboy or anything.
"Glad to hear it. The crowd wasn't very big, but they were active, and that always makes it easier fer us."
Lisa didn't know what to say. She was pretty star-struck, to be honest, but trying to act like a normal human being. "Do you always go out after a match?"
"Nah, just sometimes. Sometimes the crowds follow you around, and it's nice to find someplace quiet. The fans'r great, but sometimes pretty exhausting!"
"I can imagine!"