Stef Smith's new play, Woman Of The Year, tells the story of Paula, an ordinary lady who is not quite sure why she has been voted that woman by her local community group.
The evening before the ceremony, Paula sits alone in her Travelodge room and tries to write her acceptance speech.
After two or three glasses of cheap Merlot, her mind starts wandering to her previous beds, breakdowns and some of her very bad haircuts.
As she trawls through her memories some deep, dark truths begin to surface and, by midnight, she is not sure she is worthy of anything any more. It is a dark, introspective story with moments of comedy.
The writer's intent is to make people think about who they really are.
But to play the part of Paula, this woman with so many layers, requires the actress playing her to have a fair grasp of the human condition. Pauline Goldsmith certainly fits that bill.
Growing up in Belfast, Pauline has lived in Glasgow for the past 20 years.
"I left Belfast, not because of the bombs and bullets, but because I just wanted to be somewhere else, somewhere where my mother couldn't ask me if I'd been to Mass on Sunday, or why I wasn't in before noon," she says, smiling.
"So I studied history in Liverpool and law in Newcastle, but then had to do resits and decided to do them in Glasgow.
"I was always drawn to Glasgow I think because I loved Billy Connolly as a kid."
Pauline, who lives in Govan, gave up on law, but found acting.
"I got into it by accident, but I love the idea that acting means every day is different.
"And I suppose I have always liked to change my voice."
She adds: "I was a bit shy as a kid, but I liked the idea of becoming anyone you wanted to be. I was the third of four kids, and the third is supposed to be the one who misses out on the attention."
Pauline has acted in a wide range of productions, winning the Best Actress Award at the Edinburgh Fringe Festival for her performance in Samuel Beckett's Not I.
Her one-woman Irish wake play Bright Colours Only was hugely successful, and she toured the play for several years.
Pauline, not one it seems to take the path most travelled, also performs as a stand-up comedienne.
Incredibly, while most comedians love the simplicity of acting and performing someone else's lines, she enjoys the freedom of stand-up.
"If you are acting and you mess up, you mess it up for everyone around you. If you are doing stand-up, you can only mess it up for yourself," she says.
The statement is interesting in that actors rarely over-worry about their impact on their fellow thespians.
But Pauline is clearly a woman - perhaps a little like Paula - who carries a rather larger weight of personal responsibility on her shoulders.
But that is not to suggest she is an overly serious character. Indeed, anyone who can perform a play in Dresden, telling tales of Glaswegian life has obviously got a great sense of humour.
"Both Glasgow and Belfast have this wonderful aggression, although the Glaswegians are more ridiculous with it," she says.
"I remember once standing in a chippie and this bloke runs in and shouts to the owner, 'Gie's a bottle of juice.' The Italian chip shop boss says, 'What kinda juice you want?'
'I don't care. Jist gie's a bottle of juice.'
"And the chippie boss gave him a bottle of Irn-Bru. The bloke took the bottle, and he ran outside and hit a bloke on the head with it.
" The Germans didn't quite know what to make of that story."
Pauline adds, "But I do love Glasgow. For example, in Belfast, we try and suss out someone's religion, but in Glasgow people just ask."
Her surname confuses Glaswegians. Is she a Protestant or a Catholic Jew?
"Goldsmith is a Jewish name, but we are Catholic, I think. And how we got it I don't know."
After her Oran Mor stint, Pauline is set to reappear in Entart, the story of the Nazi-organised Degenerate Art Exhibition that took place in Munich in 1937.
Pauline plays Hitler.
"I get to play the conversationalist, nice chatty Hitler," she says, grinning of the piece which looks at the exhibition, organised by Adolf Hitler and his cronies, who aimed to deride and discredit anything the state could not control or understand.
"I love the chance to appear in the works like this, the chance to make an impression on people."
l Woman Of The Year, Oran Mor, 1pm, until Saturday. Tickets £8-£12.50.