Zero Visibility is a short serio-comedic script for 2 women. LOUISE and ARLENE are car stuck while trying to parallel park, during a major snowstorm.
Inside the car.
LOUISE: What a disaster…really…this is such a…my whole freaking life…not one person walking around here in this weather, not one! I told you it was a bad idea to pick you up. I had a feeling.
ARLENE: I told you not to come.
LOUISE: No, you were throwing hints left and right, who are you kidding?
ARLENE: I specifically told you not to come get me.
LOUISE: Sometimes people say things just to say it, when they really mean the opposite. You are one of those types…you are the master of guilt tripping.
ARLENE: Excuse me but I am not a guilt tripper.
LOUISE: Oh please, you always get what you want…it’s in those little pauses you take, its like you know exactly when to talk, what to say and when not to say a word.
ARLENE: I have no idea what you’re talking about.
LOUISE: Of course you don’t. I should have listened to my gut, it was crying out NOT to get you and I did anyway, so yay for me.
ARLENE: You’re just angry.
LOUISE: Well, duh, of course I’m angry because you always get me into a mess.
ARLENE: I can’t believe what I’m hearing.
LOUISE: Believe it, cause it’s true. You sit back like the Queen of Egypt while I’m the one who is always in the driver’s seat. I’m like your private chauffeur. We go to the mall, clubbing, lunch, you name it, there I am ready to pick you up and I don’t even have a nice car. I have the shittiest car imaginable, it’s on its last legs, you can hear me screeching down the block a mile away and you have a brand new beamer sitting at home! God forbid you take it out other than to go to work, God forbid.
ARLENE: You see the weather, there’s like zero visibility, I can’t risk taking my car out in these conditions.
LOUISE: Oh but the (raises her hand) idiot can? And now my coat is absolutely ruined and I’m sick over it cause it’s cost me an arm and a leg to get and what is this, what is this shit all over it, greasy, black SMOG.
ARLENE: It’s not smog.
LOUISE: What is it then?
ARLENE: Not smog, smog is a word for pollution or fog or gas or something, anyway.
LOUISE: Are you seriously going to give me a vocabulary lesson? I don’t care what the freaking word smog means, the point is that YOU know what the hell I meant when I said it.
ARLENE: Told you I have someone who can most probably get that grease out.
LOUISE: So not worth it. Should have left your ass home and how long does it take for these friggin’ cops to get here already…how long have we been waiting?
ARLENE: I could call the local precinct again—
LOUISE: No! Don’t call them again, it will only make them slower.
ARLENE: Should be any minute.
LOUISE: Yeah, any minute.
ARLENE: I’m sorry your coat got ruined, Louise but I really know someone who can help save it, I hope.
LOUISE: By the time we get it to whoever this person is that you say you know, the grease or whatever the hell this shit is, is going to become one with the fabric and by then it’s too late, so forget it.
ARLENE: I mean, I told you that I would push the car while you steered.
LOUISE: You push like a little girl, like a real delicate flower. I mean, come on, get behind the car and push the damn thing with strength.
ARLENE: I was trying my hardest.
LOUISE: You couldn’t even get the car to rock a little, it was wheels spinning for no reason.
ARLENE: Alright, can you just stop already?
LOUISE: At least I was getting the car to move, until I slipped.
ARLENE: How’s your knee?
LOUISE: Busted, okay? …I’m so upset…I just wanted to pick you up, have some wine, smoke up, watch some old black and white movies, have snacks and just chillax. Why? Why is my life always filled with dramatic episodes? Why can’t I be on a funny sitcom instead?
ARLENE: Soon as the cops are here, they will fish us out, we will find a better parking spot and we will smoke our freaking brains out for sure. We will get your coat fixed up and we will—
LOUISE: Bring your car out more often.
ARLENE: Okay, I will.
LOUISE: Like, the next ten rides is all you.
ARLENE: Fine, I don’t really care.
LOUISE: I don’t care if it’s the end of days, you are driving from now on.
LOUISE: You don’t even reach for gas money, it’s like your arm is only capable of extending so far. Pull out a ten spot even once in a while, it won’t kill you. I drive everywhere for us.
ARLENE: Is there anything else that will make you happy?
ARLENE: (quickly) I think I see lights, is that them?
LOUISE: Can barley see with all this snow…yeah, YEAH, I think it’s them.
Both women get out of the car, waving their arms.