This dream progressed like I was watching a television show. I knew it was me — it was a twenty-something edition of me — but it was outside of me. The camera showed me and the others in close-ups, panning, wide-shots, etc.
I was outside, part of a growing gathering. It seemed like a fair or something was opening. My wife and some friends were present, queuing to enter.
A few minutes before the gates were due to open, people came out selling access badges. A short, young woman came up to me and sold me a badge, along with several others. The badge looked like a flimsy beige rectangular band-aid. She was talking to several of us simultaneously, selling us badges and telling us to wear them. I joked, “Wear them where?”
She said, “Anywhere.”
I examined it. It was amazingly flexible, thinner than a standard playing card, and about the same size, but it felt unusual in my hand, like it was vibrating. “What if I stick it on my neck?” I did that as I asked. I laughed after asking and glanced around. Others were putting them their shirt chest or their wrist. I thought that was boring.
The sales person shrugged. “Sure, that’ll work. Anywhere will work. Want to buy another?”
“Why would I want another? Doesn’t this give me access to everything?”
“Yes, but it has a time limit. It expires after a day.”
“I don’t know,” I said, “I think it’ll be enough for me.”
Stepping closer to me, she replied in a low voice, “You should take more. I’m giving them away for free. The time limit is just what we tell people. The more you have, the greater access you have, but they don’t want everyone to have access.”
“But I can have access? Okay,” I said with a surprised smile. “I’ll take more.”
Giving me several more, she said looked around and then said, “Come find me later. I’ll give you more.”
The dream ended.