Hobson's Ghost.
This is a play created from a dream and an idea that my friend Tim had.
(lights fade up on a man, sitting on the middle seat of a three seat bar. There are three seats, the bar, a back bar with a few bottles ... more than 4, less than a real bar. There is no mirror due to the effect that mirrors have on lights, but a mirror can be added it your set director feels he or she needs one to affect that concept of a 'bar'. The man on the middle seat is anywhere between beginning drinking age and ending drinking age. It needs to be a man, because a woman would react differently to the situation the play contains. However, if the director finds that a woman needs to be cast, then the director and actor can, together, decide what she would or would not do, and therefore can write their own version of this play.)
(The man's name is Hobson. Hob by his friends. He is an easy going gent known to take risks and visit unknown places, just because. He has been in one or two fights, and never bragged about winning any of them. He's seen sadness. He's dressed in a jacket and jeans, or if he's an older gent, a jacket and loose fitting jeans. It's a Sunday.)
(There is another man there... the Barkeep. Might be a woman. Regardless, they are non-discript folks who fade into the background when not needed. Their onscreen time will be so minimal, it might be best if you had a janitor or perhaps a stage manager perform the role. Really, a trained chimp has more a character than the barkeep. Pick the person least likely to ever be on screen for more than 2 minutes and that would be who you should send out. At this point, the Barkeep is wiping a glass with a towel. This glass has been cleaned for so long it would be amazing if there were any glass there. You know how glass flows after a certain amount of time has passed, because glass is a liquid, after all, just really, really viscous? So much time has passed while the barkeep has been wiping this glass that their entire hand should be encased in solid glass from the slow and interminable flow. Really, the barkeep is such a non person. Remember that, because they almost don't exist.)
(There's a bottle in front of Hob. It can be any bottle the props person desires, but it must be the type of bottle that a person can drink from for a very long time. The drinks are poured into a shot glass and sipped, one slow sip at a time. Like a hummingbird sipping sort of sip. Maybe with a small slurp. Not a horribly noisy one. Not like the British slurping their tea or soup. Just a tiny slurp so that the audience knows that Hob is sipping from the shot glass. Hob is not much of a drinker, but this night... this night he .. or she... decided to give it their very best try. There's a reason, and it's all revealed in the play. Needless to say, this also means that Hob is holding a shot glass as the lights come up and he ... or she... is slurping, politely, from it.)
(Make a note that the seats are not highbacked barstools. This is so the audience can see Hob shoulders slump. He's had a rough day, and slumping will be something he has become acquainted with)
Right now, my neck hurts. when I come back, I'll write some dialogue.
(lights fade up on a man, sitting on the middle seat of a three seat bar. There are three seats, the bar, a back bar with a few bottles ... more than 4, less than a real bar. There is no mirror due to the effect that mirrors have on lights, but a mirror can be added it your set director feels he or she needs one to affect that concept of a 'bar'. The man on the middle seat is anywhere between beginning drinking age and ending drinking age. It needs to be a man, because a woman would react differently to the situation the play contains. However, if the director finds that a woman needs to be cast, then the director and actor can, together, decide what she would or would not do, and therefore can write their own version of this play.)
(The man's name is Hobson. Hob by his friends. He is an easy going gent known to take risks and visit unknown places, just because. He has been in one or two fights, and never bragged about winning any of them. He's seen sadness. He's dressed in a jacket and jeans, or if he's an older gent, a jacket and loose fitting jeans. It's a Sunday.)
(There is another man there... the Barkeep. Might be a woman. Regardless, they are non-discript folks who fade into the background when not needed. Their onscreen time will be so minimal, it might be best if you had a janitor or perhaps a stage manager perform the role. Really, a trained chimp has more a character than the barkeep. Pick the person least likely to ever be on screen for more than 2 minutes and that would be who you should send out. At this point, the Barkeep is wiping a glass with a towel. This glass has been cleaned for so long it would be amazing if there were any glass there. You know how glass flows after a certain amount of time has passed, because glass is a liquid, after all, just really, really viscous? So much time has passed while the barkeep has been wiping this glass that their entire hand should be encased in solid glass from the slow and interminable flow. Really, the barkeep is such a non person. Remember that, because they almost don't exist.)
(There's a bottle in front of Hob. It can be any bottle the props person desires, but it must be the type of bottle that a person can drink from for a very long time. The drinks are poured into a shot glass and sipped, one slow sip at a time. Like a hummingbird sipping sort of sip. Maybe with a small slurp. Not a horribly noisy one. Not like the British slurping their tea or soup. Just a tiny slurp so that the audience knows that Hob is sipping from the shot glass. Hob is not much of a drinker, but this night... this night he .. or she... decided to give it their very best try. There's a reason, and it's all revealed in the play. Needless to say, this also means that Hob is holding a shot glass as the lights come up and he ... or she... is slurping, politely, from it.)
(Make a note that the seats are not highbacked barstools. This is so the audience can see Hob shoulders slump. He's had a rough day, and slumping will be something he has become acquainted with)
Right now, my neck hurts. when I come back, I'll write some dialogue.