The DMV

(The DMV.  EVAN is sitting next to NICOLE, who seems disinterested in everything but her cell phone.  EVAN has been waiting a long time, they both have.)

EVAN:  This is not how I thought I’d be spending today.

NICOLE:  They’re short-staffed because everybody took the day off.  Or nobody showed up.  Or whatever.

EVAN:  How do you know that?

NICOLE:  My sister works here.

EVAN:  Your sister works at the DMV and you still have to wait in line?

NICOLE:  My sister’s one of the people who didn’t show up today.

EVAN:  Oh.

NICOLE:  Besides, I’m not here for anything special.  I just didn’t want to sit around my apartment all day.

EVAN:  So you came to the DMV?

NICOLE:  They have air-conditioning.  And nobody throws you out because everybody thinks you’re here for a reason because nobody thinks somebody would willingly sit in the DMV if they didn’t have to.  And if you’re here for a few hours, nobody bats an eye, because everybody’s here for a few hours.  Besides, I like being somewhere I don’t have to be when everyone else there has to be there.  The contradictive nature of it soothes me.

EVAN:  Who are you texting?

NICOLE:  My sister.

EVAN:  Tell her to come into work so she can help me skip the line.

NICOLE:  You don’t want to skip the line—trust me.  The last time I really did need something, and my sister had me cut the line—it was bad.  I thought the other people in line were going to scalp me.  And I thought I was being sneaky too, but they can sense it—when there’s a disruption in the order of the line.  It’s like a sense you develop after you’ve been sitting around here for twelve hours.

EVAN:  I just need a new license.

NICOLE:  Can’t you get it some other time?

EVAN:  I’m going into one of those bunkers and they need my ID.

NICOLE:  Those bunkers are expensive.

EVAN:  I know.

NICOLE:  Can’t you just buy a new ID?

EVAN:  I guess I could, but not in the time I have.  I was halfway to Connecticut when I realized I didn’t have my license on me.  I went back home.  I looked all over the place—no license.  So I came right here, because if I’m not there when they close the doors at seven—

NICOLE:  You’ll be out by then.

EVAN:  I don’t know about that.

NICOLE:  Somehow, miraculously, everything gets done before they close, and they close at five today, so you’ll be fine.  Nobody knows how it works, but it always does—I think they just haul ass during that last hour so they can be out of here by quitting time.

EVAN:  I was hoping to stop at the mall before—

NICOLE:  The mall?  You want to go to the mall?  Now?  That place must be a zoo.

EVAN:  Nah, I think everybody’s praying at church or at home with their loved ones.

NICOLE:  Are your loved ones already in the bunker?

EVAN:  No, I’m the only one going in the bunker.  The only person I could have taken with me was my boyfriend Steve, and that didn’t pan out.

NICOLE:  Why not?

EVAN:  He thinks we’re all going to be fine because everybody’s praying that we will be.

NICOLE:  Ohhhh one of those.

EVAN:  Yeah.

NICOLE:  And you don’t go for that?

EVAN:  Trust in God, but trust scientists more when they tell you the world is going to end.

NICOLE:  So you’re just leaving him behind?

EVAN:  Well, I’m not going to die with him.  We’re not Tristan and Isolde for godsakes.  He’s being crazy.  I don’t see why he can’t just pray in the bunker.  That’d be a win-win—Well, sort of.

NICOLE:  A lot of people see this as a test.

EVAN:  An IQ test?  See which idiots refuse to save themselves?

NICOLE:  A test of faith.  And I’m just playing devil’s advocate.  I’d get in the bunker if I had the money.

EVAN:  So you’re just doing to hide out here instead?

NICOLE:  Yup.

EVAN:  I was joking.

NICOLE:  I’m not.  I’m going to wait until ten minutes before closing time, go hide in one of the stalls in the women’s room, and then hope there aren’t any motion sensors to trip any alarms.

EVAN:  And then what?

NICOLE:  And then I just wait.  They have People magazines in the staff lounge and my sister gave me a key.  I can sleep on the couch.

EVAN:  You want to DIE at the DMV?

NICOLE:  I don’t know what it is about this place, but it makes me feel better.  Maybe it has something to do with how sterile it is.  How could anything truly bad happen in a place this boring?

EVAN:  IS EVERYBODY CRAZY?  I mean, I know everybody’s crazy, but COME ON!  This is the End.  Of.  Times!  Things are going to get bad!  This is not an opportunity to demonstrate how quirky or unique you are!  Everybody needs to buckle down and—

NICOLE:  And what?  You think that bunker is really going to do you any good if the entire planet is thrown off its orbit?  Have you really been listening to those scientists?  Because if you have, you’d know that all that bunker is going to do for you is give you peace of mind right up until it floods or it’s consumed by fire or locusts overtake it or whatever.  It’s not going to do a damn thing.  It just makes you feel better.  Just like being here makes me feel better.  Just like praying makes you boyfriend feel better.  Here’s something to think about:  Maybe you shouldn’t make people feel bad for embracing something that brings them comfort just because you yourself don’t find comfort in it.

                (A moment.)

EVAN:  Well, now you made me feel bad.

NICOLE:  Making people feel bad also brings me comfort.

EVAN:  So, should I not go to the bunker?  Steve’s still at home.

NICOLE:  Do whatever you need to do.  Everybody’s just doing what they need to do.

EVAN:  Well, if I go back to Steve, then I really don’t need a license right away…

NICOLE:  Are you driving home?

EVAN:  Yeah.

NICOLE:  Then you need a license.

EVAN:  What?  In case I get pulled over?

NICOLE:  Yes.  Driving without a license is a serious infraction.

EVAN:  The world is ending.

NICOLE:  Don’t contribute to the chaos that is inevitably going to erupt when the comet does, in fact, hit.  Play by the rules.  Get your license.  You’ve already waited, right?

EVAN:  Yeah, I guess you’re right.

                (A moment.)

And you must enjoy the company, right?

NICOLE:  Don’t make assumptions.

EVAN:  Sorry.

NICOLE:  It’s all right.

                (Small pause.)

I do.  Enjoy the company.

EVAN:  Well then, I guess it’s a good thing I lost my license.

NICOLE:  You didn’t lose it.  Steve took it.  That way you wouldn’t be able to get into the bunker.

EVAN:  Steve didn’t—

NICOLE:  He took it.

EVAN:  How do you—

NICOLE:  Think about it.

EVAN:  I…No.

NICOLE:  Was it in your wallet?

EVAN:   Yes.

NICOLE:  Did Steve have access to your wallet?

EVAN:  Yes.

NICOLE:  Have you ever seen a license grow legs and walk itself OUT of a wallet?

EVAN:  No.

NICOLE:  Well, there you go.

                (A moment.)

EVAN:  You—

NICOLE:  He took it.

EVAN:  That—

NICOLE:  He loves you.

                (A moment.)

He loves you.

EVAN:  Yeah.

                (Small pause.)

Yeah, he does.

NICOLE:  Everybody’s doing what they have to do.

EVAN:  Yeah.

NICOLE:  Mhmm.

                (He thinks.  She texts.  They wait.)