Waiting for Godot image by Mike Steele
Ooh, what a set. I’ll take some notes.
The woman next to me is a fidget.
Writing, writing, writing.
The woman next to me is far too interested in my notebook.
Curtain up, hurrah!
I’m going to call the woman next to me Valerie.
Oh no, it’s one of those mesh curtain things. I hope the whole show isn’t behind this.
Did I spell that right?
Ah, good.
Oh, Valerie, do stop your fidgeting.
Writing. Scrawl. I hope I can read this later.
Valerie, this is MY notebook. Please stop trying to lean into me to read it.
Valerie. Valerie. I need the arm to rest on, please just move slightly.
Valerie…Valerie…if you could just share the….Valerie…
Look, there’s Bill Paterson.
Ha, ha. My old flatmate said Bill Paterson’s Scottish accent was the worst she’d heard.
Oh, Brian, lovely Brian with the twinkly eyes.
My flatmate didn’t think he was Scottish.
Bill Paterson! Not Scottish!
I laughed.
Where’s the line about the bicycle wheels?
“You haven’t got a bicycle!” Brilliant.
Oh, that’s Endgame. I like Waiting for Godot better than Endgame, sorry, Samuel.
Well, I like Endgame, I saw the Theatre Workshop production of it.
You know, this is a really lovely set.
What happened to Theatre Workshop?
Oooh, it’s him fae that thing.
I know him, I know him. So many faces, so many plays, but I know him.
It’s whatshisname.
He looks like the guy that played Scrooge in the NTS’ A Christmas Carol.
That’s because he is the guy that played Scrooge in the NTS’ A Christmas Carol.
Great monologue, Scroogey!
Valerie, your lack of spatial awareness is tiring.
This is just sublime.
Oh no, bad cough.
Oh God no, I’m coughing through the lines and I can’t stop.
Stop coughing.
My eyes are watering, I can feel sweat on the back of my neck, I need to cough.
Cough. Cough. Cough.
Cough. Cough. Cough.
I seem to have made Valerie uncomfortable.
Good.
I’m dying, Valerie. I’m dying and I’m taking you with me.
End of first act.
Interval! INTERVAL.
Good.
I apologise for my coughing to the man on the other side of me.
I’m not apologising to Valerie.
Valerie can go swing on something.
After her ice cream.
The second act.
I have a large glass of water.
And a small glass of champagne.
Plastic glasses, one in each hand.
Valerie has taken the full arm rest.
The full thing.
On you go, Valerie, help yourself. I have champagne.
I see shoes. A pair of shoes centre stage.
They belong to Bill ‘Worst Scottish Accent Ever’ Paterson.
The funny thing is, my old flatmate wasn’t Scottish.
She was from Bradford.
No coughs yet.
Water. Champagne. Champagne. Water. Water. Water.
I’m trying to remember. When I read this play….when I read this play….
What happens next?
I remember now.
Him, yes. They return.
The hat.
The hat.
Oh my God, how could I forget about the hat scene?
The hat scene. The fucking hat…
Valerie. We are not going to be friends if you keep encroaching on my personal space.
Valerie.
VALERIE.
I’m going.
I’m going.
He’s going. He says he’s going.
I wish Valerie would go.
Waiting for Godot to appear.
Where is Godot?
Where is Godot?
The same place as Valerie’s manners.
God, I hope Godot has manners.
The small boy. The promise.
The curtain.
They bow.
The people behind me are shouting bravo.
If they throw roses at the stage I will lose my shit.
“BRAVO! BRAVO!”
No roses. Lights up.
“That was MARVELLOUS!”
A voice somewhere behind me.
“JUST MARVELLOUS!”
BRAVO. BRAVO. BRAVO.
The aisle stands, turns, shuffles. stops.
Oh for fuck’s sake Valerie, what is it?
Valerie. Why are you stopping Valerie? The whole theatre is behind us.
The aisle waits for Valerie.
I see a gap. Opportunity.
I run.
The stairs.
The bar.
The doors.
The cold night air.
It is over.
Yes, it is.
I never want it to end.
I know.
I know.
Goodbye.
Goodbye.
The Taylor Trash 