’Where Nobody Knows Your Name’

SCENE 

     (Where necessary, every feature of the set may be

     mimed or its presence merely implied.)

      A desolate pub in the middle of the

     nowhere-in-particular that is the Northern Cape

     desert. A few antique wooden tables are set out in

     all their lack of finery. A small bar to the right

     of the room holds back a sheer wall of numinous,

     multi-coloured bottles of booze. Light sneaks in

     through the sliver of a gap in the curtains as

     well as through the enormous keyhole of the

     medieval front-door.

     An ageless BARTENDER surveys his domain,

     whistling, his hands in his pockets.

     After a moment he takes down a random bottle from

     behind him and brings up a glass from beneath the

     bar. He dries it nonchalantly with his finger

     before pouring himself a straight single. He

     raises his drink to no-one:

Bartender: Cheers all. 

     He swigs it, considers the stinging taste, then

     returns the liquid to the glass and the contents

     of the glass to the bottle.

     About to return the bottle to its previous

     position, a series of desperate KNOCKS arrive on

     the door. The Bartender seems flummoxed. After a

     minute, twin young voices begin to accompany the

     noise.

BOY and GIRL in stereo: Please! Be! Open! Please! Be! Open! 

     The Bartender takes longer than necessary to catch

     on, then tiptoes to the door. The Boy outside

     starts slamming it with his full body weight.

     Inevitably, the Bartender unlocks just in time for

     both the Boy and the Girl to tumble inside the

     joint like a short avalanche.

     They look like they’ve already been picked at by a

     troop of vultures: drowning in sweat, half-brown

     skin and clothes, remaining collapsed on the floor

     for the next minute or two.

Boy (Panting): Sorry, Sir. Might we, perhaps, trouble you, for a few, glasses of Water, please? 

Girl (Ditto): We’ve been out there, no relief, at all, in that godforsaken desert for, three, whole, hours, you see… 

Bartender: Sure, sure. Right away… (He rushes over to the bar before catching himself short.) Just, what is ’water’ by the way? I don’t think we have it. 

Girl: What do you mean? 

Bartender: Well, I’ve been behind this bar for as long as I can remember and no-one’s ever come in asking for any such thing as this ’water’ you speak of… 

Boy: That’s impossible, surely. 

Girl: (To Boy) Maybe not… – You know, Sir: H2O. 80% of your body. The Elixir of Life. That blue wobbly stuff which falls from the sky into rivers, lakes, oceans and swimming pools. 

Bartender (Mystified by every word): Hmmm… What is it distilled from? 

Boy: It’s non-alcoholic. 

     The Bartender covers his mouth in sincere shock.

     After a beat, the young couple sigh together. He

     eventually collects himself.

Bartender: My apologies, I thought that was only an exotic myth. 

Boy: I know this may sound rude, but are you sure you’re not a mirage? 

Bartender: Pretty sure. Why would I be one?
Boy: Just a lingering suspicion. Could you please slap 

yourself to prove it and reassure me?

Girl: A mirage could slap itself, couldn’t it? Allow me. 

     The Girl lifts herself up, walks over to the bar

     and leans over to tap the Bartender’s face with

     her hand. She does so three times then, satisfied

     enough, turns back to the Boy, who’s seated

     himself at a table in the meantime.

Girl (Cont’d): Solid enough. 

     She comes over and seats herself at his table. The

     Bartender just looks benignly puzzled.

2. 

Boy (Whispering to her): I don’t know, I kind of meant a little harder than that… 

Girl (whispering in turn): Let’s just get alcoholic drinks, at least they have those. – Thank you, can you, um, bring us that bottle of brandy and two glasses, please. 

Bartender (Visibly relieved): Of course, coming right up. 

     He duly picks up the bottle just beside the one he

     previously tested and brings out two new glasses

     from beneath the bar.

Girl: And can you pour refills for us? It’ll be hard enough just to lift the glasses at first. 

Bartender: A little unorthodox, but I can easily perform that service too… 

     He places the glasses at their table right in

     front of them and fulls both to their respective

     brims.

     The Girl and the Boy immediately slug back their

     first round in unison, clink their empty glasses

     and return them to the table for the Bartender to

     repeat the procedure. He does.

Bartender: Colour me impressed. May I ask what caused such thirst, besides walking in the desert I mean? 

Boy (Slurping his Second Round): We got lost. Bartender: Most do. But what’d you think was around 

here to find?
Girl (Slurping hers): A protest. 

Bartender: Shouldn’t you and your friends be studying instead? 

     The young couple groan simultaneously.

Boy: That was a different cause. We’re trying to join #FrackingMustFall. Just as relevant, you see- 

Girl: But also far more confidential. We didn’t even know about it till yesterday… 

     The Bartender pours the third round.

(MORE) 

3. 

Boy: Neither did any of our friends. We thought we could be the vanguard. 

Girl: I think we’re just ahead of our time. That’s probably why we didn’t know the way forward. 

Boy: Who does? At least our route took us to liquor. 

     Again, the couple drain their glasses and cheers

     each other. Regrettably, the first bottle is now

     finished.

Girl (Pointing): Can we have the next one too? Bartender: Naturally. 

     He hesitates over bringing back the tested bottle,

     before shrugging, returning to the table with it

     and once more pouring the next round.

     Both the Girl and the Boy are already far beyond

     tipsy.

Girl: Thank you. Thank you so much. 

Boy: What about you, Sir? Why do you happen to find yourself in the middle of nowhere with us? We’re your only customers ever, surely… 

Bartender: No, there have been others, just like you. Boy: But not recently at all? 

Bartender: No, thank goodness. I wouldn’t want to be rushed off my feet. 

Boy: But what’s a bar without regular customers? 

Bartender: A bar without any competition. Cornering a market is always far better than having one, don’t you think? 

     The Boy considers for a moment, undeniably

     perplexed. As he’s about to answer he starts

     hiccuping instead.

Girl: I entirely agree. You could charge whatever you wanted that way… 

Bartender: Yes, you could. And I could, come to think of it… What do you two have on you, just so I know? 

     He then pours the fifth round.

4. 

Boy: Well, we’re both students, at the end of the year, with no way of contacting our parents, so… 

Girl: Nothing, really. Nothing at all.
Boy: We’re actually completely dependent on your 

charity and kindness for the moment… Is that alright? Bartender: Maybe. You have your lives, don’t you? 

Girl: We do, but would they really be worth as much as this brandy? 

     The downing and clinking procedure is repeated for

     a fifth – though on this occasion slightly

     melancholy – time. They then nest their heads on

     the table while the Bartender propositions them.

Bartender: I wouldn’t ask you to sell your souls, don’t worry. I’ve just never had a holiday, you see, and obviously if in my absence there are such new, unimagined things out there as ’water’, I think I might just about deserve one. All I need is a substitute or two to mind the bar. Would you two be interested? 

     The cadence of his short speech has lulled the

     young couple to the edge of sleep.

Boy: Yeah… great, really good deal, man.
Girl: There’s also… milk and Coke and Creme Soda out 

there… I mean, go ahead… We don’t mind…

     They drift over the edge together.

     The Bartender wrests their finally empty glasses

     from their hands and places them on the bar. He

     picks up his keys from behind it and quickly

     leaves out the front door, once again whistling.

     He locks it behind him from the outside.

     After a beat, the couple lift their heads up,

     survey their domain and look at each other in

     mutual confusion. The Girl gets up, goes to the

     door and tries it. They’re trapped.

Girl: Shit. 

     The boy gets up and goes behind the bar. He

     selects a vintage and pours for both of them in

     their now-dirty glasses. The Girl joins him in a

     toast.

(MORE) 

5. 

Boy: It’s as good a place as any to base a new movement, don’t you think? 

Girl: Not really, but we’ll see how it goes. Boy: To the future?
Girl: To the future. 

     They down their glasses one last time, then kiss

     each other across the bar.

Curtain. 

6.