Molly The Barmaid
Molly is past the first flush of middle age but has kept herself well despite having had a hard life. She works as a barmaid in the cocktail bar of the biggest hotel in town. She doesn’t have a partner at the moment but lives in hope. We meet her at work.
You see all manner of folk in this job.
To a customer
Pint o’ bitter is it love? And a G & T for the lady?
She pours the drinks (This can be mimed)
That couple I’ve just served - they’re not married. You can tell. You can always tell. They're actually talking to each other. Twenty years I’ve been doing this, pouring drinks, pulling pints. Being pulled by the punters. They try it on. They always try it on. They think just ‘cause you work behind a bar you're easy. Well I’m not. I might be cheap but I’m not easy.
To a customer
Half a lager and a Babycham? We don’t get through many Babychams these days. Hey, do you remember the first alcoholic drink you had? With me it was Cherry B. Wi’ my husband it was Meths. He had alcoholic constipation - he couldn’t pass a pub. There you are love.
I say husband - we were never married. Common law job and he was ever so common. (SAD) He’s gone now though. Been gone a few years bless him. (BEAT) Thought he’d be better off with a younger woman. Married her as well, silly sod I still see him sometimes. Down the High St. with his wife. Two kids an’ all. He hates kids. Serves the bugger right. He’d never marry me.
Not that I wanted him to. He always used to say marriage is like a three ring circus; the engagement ring, the wedding ring and then the suffering!
I miss him though. Do you know why? Because he was kind and attentive, always buying me presents and the like? No, nothing like that. Shall I tell you why I miss him so much? He was a big lad. Hung like a donkey he was. And he could use it. Never let ‘em tell you that size isn’t important.
Half past ten. Half an hour to go. I’ve dying for a ciggie. Supposed to have given up but I can’t. Tried everything. Sucking sweets, Nicotine patches, hypnotists. That was a laugh. Went to this feller down Railway Terrace. Told me I was a natural subject. He held up his finger in front of my face and told me to watch it. He put me under no trouble at all. It was a lovely feeling, I just drifted away on a cloud. I woke up half way through and his hand were down me knickers. That was a lovely feeling an’ all, I just drifted away on a cloud. I went once a week for six months.
To a customer
Pint o’ lager love?
she pours drink
Thanks love, I’ll have a G&T.
she pours herself a drink
He’s a poof. Nice with it though. You can tell. You can always tell. There’s always something about them that gives it away - in his case it was the taffeta frock and the seamed stockings. Not that I’ve got anything against them. They’re just no use to me. Horses for courses and I’m at the Derby while he’s hoping for a jump at Aintree.
Anyway this hypnotist; he got bolder and bolder every time I went until after a month or so he was lying on top and doing it to me while I was supposed to be hypnotised. I thought how am I supposed to pretend it’s not happening? But it wasn’t difficult, I’d had years of practice with my old man. I had to stop going in the end. Well, he tried putting his thingy in my mouth. I thought this is ridiculous, I’d gone to stop smoking cigarettes, not to start on a pipe.
She takes a drink
Don’t talk to me about men. Don’t get me wrong, I like men and I’ve had a few.
She holds up glass
Usually when I’ve had a few. I’m not a tart - not quite. I only bother with men when I’ve had a drink and once I’ve got a man I need a drink. Although I once gave up both - it was the worst hour of my life.
There’s a feller over there keeps looking over here. I think he fancies me. I bet he’s left his glasses at home. Either that or he’s pissed. They’re always pissed when they get round to looking at me. I shouldn’t put myself down though. I know I’m no oil painting but I’m not ugly either. I have my charms. I’m good in...... the kitchen.
Anyway beauty comes from within - from within bottles, jars, phials, packets. I asked my hairdresser the other day if he had anything for grey hair - he said respect.
It’s quiet in here now, they’re all next door. Dinner Dance. It’s years since I’ve been to a Dinner Dance. Proper do’s they were. Most of that lot in there don’t know what to do once the foods finished with. It was different in my day. It was more - elegant. Handsome (short-sighted) man sweeping you up in his arms and whisking you off round the floor. The Waltz, Quickstep, Fox-trot, I could do the lot. And I did. I used to go out a lot more then. Home with the milkman I was. I don’t think his wife knew. I’ve done a lot in my life. I haven’t always been a barmaid. I used to be a Nun, but that’s another story. Anyway look at the time. Can I have your glasses please Ladies and Gentlemen. It’s time to go home. And I’m sure you’ve all got homes to go to (BEAT) even if I haven’t.
Copyright (c) Chris Gallagher