Characters
WAITER
MAN
WOMAN
STRANGER
ANOTHER COUPLE
Scene
The stage is set to mirror the painting “Nighthawks” by Edward Hopper. A man and woman are sitting in a brightly lit diner at the bar late at night. We see the characters as though looking in the wide window from the dark street outside.
The waiter serves them from behind the bar. The woman, dressed in a flattering, red dress inspects a folded dollar bill, lost in thought. She is there with a smartly dressed man but sits somewhat apart from him. Another man, a stranger in a dark suit, sits across from them on the far side of the bar in silence with his newspaper and coffee.
The curtain opens with everyone frozen and silent. The waiter moves first, then the stranger, then the woman, then the man.
WAITER: Something to drink, ma’am?
MAN: She wants a coffee.
WOMAN: I’ll have a water, too, thanks.
WAITER: Nothing for you, sir—something to eat, maybe? The burgers are tasty.
MAN: No, nothing for me.
WAITER: Right then. Best coffee around coming right up for the lady—and a water.
(winks at the woman)
WOMAN: Best around, huh? Even this late at night?
WAITER: Yes ma’am, best around. I always keep it fresh.
STRANGER (from behind his paper): It’s true.
WAITER (fills her drinks): There you go. Only the best for the lovely lady.
WOMAN (shyly): Mmm. It’s perfect. Thank you.
The man is lost in thought and oblivious to their chatting, now staring intently at the back page of the stranger’s newspaper.
WAITER: It’s cold out there tonight.
WOMAN: Downright chilly. I wasn’t ready for it this soon.
WAITER: Coffee will warm you right up.
An affectionate couple walks across from off stage left to the jukebox in the back corner. They stay a minute, pick a song, and then walk holding hands back off stage left, waving to the waiter who tips his hat to them. After a moment the music fades to the background. The woman watches them sadly.
WOMAN (to the man): You sure you won’t have something?
(silence)
WOMAN (to the waiter): It might be a better night to be home by the…
MAN: Can you believe all this government mess? I can’t get a minute’s peace from everyone going on and on about it like we don’t have regular lives to get on with. Everyone’s got their two cents to put in like they’re experts.
(The woman sighs deeply.)
MAN: What? It’s true! Everywhere we go that’s all anybody talks about. Nobody knows what’s up or down anymore.
WOMAN: Well, it’s all YOU talk about. That’s for sure. Can’t you just let it go and enjoy the…
MAN: I’m obviously not the one holding on to things; and anyway, it’s my concern and attention that keeps you out of trouble and in nice clothes.
WOMAN (quietly to herself): …company.
WAITER: It does seem grim out there, but you have someone nice by your side. That’s more than some have (glances at the stranger behind his paper); and it’s bright and warm in here. Sure I can’t get you a cup? A hot coffee will set you right again.
WOMAN (nudges the man, tries to cheer him): Best coffee around! It’s a fact.
MAN: I’m sure I’ve had better.
WOMAN (sighs): If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to the ladies’ room.
(as she walks away) Not that you’ll miss me.
The woman exits stage left.
MAN (to the waiter, stranger looking on): I don’t get it. I give her everything she wants, but she’s never happy. She’s like a spoiled child pouting in the corner. I take her out; she starts a fight. It’s never enough for her.
(stands and paces in front of the bar)
No, you know what? SHE doesn’t get it. All she has to worry about is her hair and what’s for dinner. The whole world’s future hangs in the balance, and all she thinks about is whether her outfit looks good and the latest book club gossip. I can’t ignore what’s happening out there. It’s just all over her head.
(to the stranger, his paper now on the counter)
You get it. It’s complicated, and a man has to stay informed about what’s going on. We can’t just close our eyes and dream it all away. We’re responsible. We’ve got to keep things running. You mind if I borrow that?
STRANGER (handing the man the newspaper): Be my guest. Things are a mess for sure. I’ve tried my fair share to drown it all out, and I agree that’s not the way to go. The lady has a point, though. The coffee does hit the spot (nods to the waiter).
(The man is already back in his seat hidden behind the paper and doesn’t respond.)
WAITER (refills the stranger’s cup): I’ll keep it comin’.
(quietly to the stranger) How’ve you been?
STRANGER: I’m doing alright. Just takin’ it one day at a time.
WAITER: Lonely?
STRANGER: Yeah. Since she left, the days still go by slow and the nights—too slow. It’s hard to keep my mind from going fuzzy. My heart feels heavy, and I get so thirsty. I just walk on back over here, though, and sit awhile. It smooths out the hurt a little. (He lifts his mug as a toast. The waiter nods in return.)
The stranger stands and walks over to the jukebox, puts a quarter in, but flips through the songs without choosing one.
STRANGER: What should I play today?
The woman walks back in from the bathroom and sits down. She sips her coffee and nervously folds and refolds the dollar bill.
WAITER: Maybe let the lady choose.
WOMAN (ignores him and speaks softly to the man): Maybe we should just head home. I can take my coffee to go.
MAN: No! We’re not going home. You made a big enough deal about going out tonight, and so here we are—out. I went to all the trouble of not staying late at work even though I have a mountain of things to do. We’re staying. (pause) I’m going out to get some air.
The man walks through the diner off stage left. The audience sees him walk out and stand at the left corner of the diner leaning against the outside wall. A streetlight flickers on. He tries to light a cigarette in the cold.
WOMAN (to herself): Is it so bad for a girl to want a night out for her birthday?
WAITER (winks to the stranger at the jukebox and suggests a song): No, it is definitely not.
A song begins to play, and the waiter walks up to the lady and offers her his hand. She stands, and he gently spins her out then spins her back to her stool. He bows slightly to her then goes back behind the bar. The woman smiles shyly.
WAITER: You’ve got to get out and shine, dance the night away, be celebrated! Come here anytime, and I’ll keep the music on for you and your coffee filled.
The stranger goes back to his stool. Music fades to the background.
WOMAN: That is very kind of you. (stares awhile in her coffee)
(quietly) I’m not much worth celebrating, though, I’m afraid. Most that really know me don’t want much to do with me.
WAITER: That’s not true. Your husband is with you. Granted, he’s a bit distracted at the moment.
The streetlight above the man flickers again and goes out.
WOMAN: He’s not my husband, and distracted isn’t the half of it. He forgot my birthday, so he gave me some money on the way here and said to go buy myself something. I suppose I should be thankful. It’s just…It’s just he doesn’t see me. On the good days he barely notices I’m there. On the bad ones, I’m an affront to his intelligence, and he lets me know it.
(pause)
He’s nicer than some I’ve been with, though. It’s what I deserve. This is just all there is for a girl like me. I make the best of it.
STRANGER: Sounds like you better get this lady some pie.
WAITER: Right you are. (to the woman) You wait here.
Waiter goes off stage and comes back with a slice of pie and a fresh pot of coffee.
STRANGER: Everyone’s worth celebrating. (to the waiter) Isn’t that right?
WAITER: Everyone. (lights a candle on her pie)
WOMAN: Oh my! Thank you. Thank you for all of this. (She glances at the waiter, smiles across the bar at the stranger, and blows out her candle.)
(a quiet pause)
STRANGER: I’ve had dark days, too. I thought I didn’t deserve any better either and buried myself in the bottle to keep the dark at bay. I was drowning until I found this place. The coffee, the company (nods to the waiter)—it’s helped get me through. Our friend here showed me who I am even when no one else could see, when I couldn’t see.
WAITER: Hey, I just pour the coffee.
STRANGER: And make the coffee and buy the coffee and run the kitchen and plenty more. (to the woman) Oh, he owns the place, but you can’t get him out from behind the bar. Crazy thing is—he really cares about everyone who comes in here. He stays here cleanin’ the glasses and wipin’ the counters and pourin’ the coffee for all the people who come in here all night.
WAITER: Well, I can’t let just anyone do it, now can I?
WOMAN: What!? Really? You really own this place? Well, I’m truly honored to have met you, and he’s right. You’ve made me feel…well…worth something, tonight. Thank you. Thank you for that.
WAITER: Everyone’s worth knowing, ma’am.
The man comes back in. Everyone is quiet. The stranger stares into his cup. The woman eats her pie. The waiter wipes the counter.
MAN (to the waiter): I think I’ll have that burger now. Might help me feel better.
WAITER: Yes, sir. Anything else for you ma’am?
WOMAN (sarcastically): No, thanks for asking.
MAN: What!? Good grief. I can’t read your mind. All you have to do is say something. You already ordered pie without me anyway.
MAN (to the waiter): Women! It’s like volunteering to swim in the middle of the ocean with no life jacket. I cannot see how anyone survives!
WAITER (smiles to the man): Can I get you a water, too, sir?
WOMAN (dryly): Na, he’s already drowning.
The man rolls his eyes and goes back to the paper. The waiter smiles then heads off stage to the kitchen. The woman looks off out the wide window at the audience, then briefly meets the stranger’s eyes.
The stranger gets up and walks over to the jukebox, puts another quarter in and starts another song. He walks over to the woman. At the same time the waiter comes back to the bar with the man’s burger.
STRANGER (to the woman): How about a dance?
MAN (to the stranger): Sure, be my guest. She’s got two left feet, though.
The woman takes the stranger’s hand, and they dance slowly by the jukebox behind the man while he eats. As the song ends, they stand looking at each other for a moment, then she turns to the man.
WOMAN: You know—the dark’s not all there is—out there. You can dance, too. There’s light enough. You can live. I want to. (looking at the waiter and then at the stranger) I want to live. I have to go.
She takes the stranger’s offered arm, and they walk away across the diner.
MAN: What? Wait! Where are you going?
WAITER (quietly to himself): Fly nighthawks. Fly.
As they reach the exit to off stage, the woman pauses and turns back.
WOMAN (gestures to the waiter): He sees you. If you’re drowning…have a cup of coffee.
The previously dark sign above the diner flickers on to the audience and reads: The Well.
WAITER (turns back to the bar and offers a coffee to the man): Best around.
CURTAIN
Melissa Rogers is an Arkansan, a mother of four, and an English teacher, graphic designer, and writer. She is happiest with a book and with the trees.
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