I met her in a bar where it was too loud to talk. When we finished our drinks I asked her if she’d like to get one somewhere else. I started rolling a cigarette, and she took out a pack of long, thin, expensive-looking straights.
“Menthol-tipped,” she said, “they taste great.”
Well, we went looking for this bar, this basement bar, and we must’ve walked past it three times before we spied the entrance, went down the metal stairway and went inside.
She said, “You look tired.”
I asked her if I could get her something to drink. She just took off her coat and went and stood by the bar, and she looked beautiful and very far away. That’s when she told me,
“I wasn’t meant to be a waitress. I came to this city to be an actress on the stage but now I’m stuck serving all these City coats-and-ties, missing auditions because I’m working all the time.”
We finished our drinks, split the bill and left. Stood under an archway smoking cigarettes. And I thought she might want to call it a night, might’ve had work in the morning, I knew I did. But I didn’t want her to leave, and I had to try, so I said,
“Do you want to get one more drink with me? That place across the street looks alright.”
And to my surprise, there we was, walking in the wind and the rain, our shoulders bumping together as I leant down to hear her saying,
“I wasn’t meant to be a waitress. I came to this city to be an actress on the stage but now I’m stuck serving all these City coats-and-ties, missing auditions because I’m working all the time.”
We sat in a backroom and I asked her about her favourite playwrights and I realised that all night I hadn’t once made her smile and, selfishly, at the time I thought that was my fault. Then it really was late, Friday night and all the world was drunk apart from me and her. And then the long walk to the station, and then the bright lights of the station. And as we hugged goodbye she kissed me, for half a second, and her mouth was very cold. Then she turned from me and she was walking away. And I realise now if I’d have called her name again she’d have turned around again and would’ve stayed.
On the train home, alone, I kept hearing her voice, just hearing her voice saying,
“I wasn’t meant to be a waitress. I came to this city to be an actress on the stage but now I’m stuck serving all these City coats-and-ties, missing auditions because I’m working all the time.”
“Fragile and soft, yet ironically rough at the same time – vocally the stumbling drunk vibe is unlike anything I’ve heard before and it’s so lovely.” Lotus Play Beats
If you have a fondness for expertly wrought roots-rock with sharp lyrics and aching vocals, look no further—“Strangers” is for you. Bandcamp New & Notable Jan 8, 2022
The latest LP from Brigid Mae Power is gorgeous and ghostly, setting Power’s voice against soft brushes of guitar, piano, & shuffling drums. Bandcamp New & Notable Feb 17, 2018