A Kansas schoolteacher who had always wanted to be a playwright, Inge came to the Big City in 1949 and achieved instant success. The New York Times placed him in a class with Tennessee Williams and Edward Albee, succeeding Eugene O’Neill as pillars of the American theater.

But where Williams’ plays were tinged with southern Gothic morbidity, and Albee’s were clouded by symbolic murkiness, Inge gave us clear visions of the small-town American heartland infused with an underlying decency, as comforting and familiar as a Norman Rockwell poster.

In this case the setting is a shabby diner. The world-weary Grace, together with the bookish, teenaged waitress Elma Duckworth, and the placidly philosophical sheriff, Will Masters, are keeping it open all night for the driver and passengers of the Topeka bus, which has been stranded by a snowstorm.

Like Inge’s other works, this is a story of lonely dreamers, searching for the warmth of real companionship and reaching out for contact with others who seem inappropriate — or at least unlikely — candidates for their affection. Both the drama and the comedy come from the tenacious perseverance with which they grasp at possibilities.

The plot focuses on the mulish determination of the egotistical young cowboy Bo Decker, to win the heart and hand of Cheri, a somewhat tarnished nightclub singer he saw in Kansas City while he was there for the rodeo. Having carried her onto the bus by force, Bo intends to take her home to wedded bliss on his Montana ranch.

Meanwhile, Carl, the slick-talking bus driver, romances Grace into inviting him upstairs to her apartment, leaving wide-eyed Elma in charge of the diner. Curious and sympathetic to Cheri and Bo, Elma is entranced by the erudite but seedy “Doctor” Lyman, a former college professor who carries a dark secret along with a much-used whiskey flask. The group is completed by Virgil Blessing, the shy, guitar playing ranch hand who raised Bo after he was orphaned in childhood.

Originally a hapless waif from Appalachia who ran away from misery to find her place as a “chanteuse” in the Blue Dragon, Cheri admits to having known a lot of boys since she was 14, but confides to Elma that she was a bit intrigued by the virile cowboy, observing that the other patrons of the club had always been too drunk to actually listen to her sing.

In an effort to distract the fractious Bo, Elma organizes a talent show in which Virgil will play a song, Cheri will sing, and she and Lyman will present a scene from Shakespeare. Lyman is a stumbling drunk who recites his lines with a gleam of undisguised lechery in his bleary eye, but this is no deterrent to the eager teen who aspires to a world of culture and ideas beyond what small town Kansas offers.

Memorized fresh from her English literature class, Elma plays Juliet to Lyman’s Romeo in a balcony scene that is at once awful — befitting a high-schooler’s idea of dramatic interpretation — as it is meaningful in that it forces Lyman to cut through the shell of his own pretenses and confront the truth of what he has become.

Miles Marek, who is a familiar face from television and movies, gives a strong performance as the sheriff, a decent man and a true peacekeeper who does what he has to and tries to steer people down the path of reason. Mark Shanahan and Tracey Held are sufficiently appealing as the oddball couple that they make you root for both of them.

Glory Gallo, in another excellent performance as Grace, and Robert Valin as Carl, are two people who ultimately settle for an arrangement that is perhaps less than what they might want, but at least is better than total loneliness.

And total loneliness is what is conveyed by Peter Randazzo as the sad and gentle Virgil, whose closing line, “Some people will always get left out in the cold,” could be an echo of the playwright, who took his own life in the early 1970s.

Bus Stop is a satisfying and totally enjoyable theatrical classic, well staged by the Polka Dot company and definitely worth a trip to Bridgeport. And it’s a show you can take your kids to – middle schoolers and up.

(Polka Dot’s production of Bus Stop continues through April 16. Call the theatre’s box office, at 203/333-3666, for reservation details.)