nicholasI had been given a clue as to the whereabouts of a magical whistle-blowing child. Supposedly, she had knowledge of some extraordinary corporate malfeasance but was in no position to articulate and present her knowledge. I had been tasked with tracking her down and helping extract a palatable quantity of what she knew and repurpose it for public consumption.
This was all transpiring in a fairly believable urban situation, it felt very much like an east coast city with all of the appropriate trappings, well-heeled residential areas, decrepit but hip industrial zones, and a variety of places to hang out. Essentially it felt like a self-contained video game map in condensed form.
I realized rapidly that not only did I need to convince her that I was on the side of virtue and would use the knowledge she had altruistically but that I would ensure it was disseminated in a way that didn’t draw an inordinate amount of negative criticism.
The only catch was because she was young and impressionable she had an agent that followed her around incessantly. He was a sweet but incredibly douchey aspiring celebrity type who was very difficult to pin down. He felt like a cheap mixture of Bieber, Timberlake, and Sean Parker (Facebook). Even if his young charge was of supreme importance he insisted on bringing her with him everywhere he went.
I was left at the mercy of his cheap urban whims. I kept on trying to catch him at bars, clubs, dinners, etc. Everytime I saw him his ludicrous fashion would take an even more perverse turn. It was hard for me to maintain an honest exchange with him as I found his general presence so deplorable that I could barely muster the energy to be polite. All the while I would see her, the young lady with the important knowledge increasingly less and less. I realized that the more I projected my interest in meeting her the more the various malevolent powers-that-be would catch wind of my intentions. I was becoming increasingly desperate at convincing him my intentions were pure and that I wouldn’t waste my time with this young girl.
There was a moment in the dream where I realized that his “slipperiness” was less a function of his poor choice of fashion and social activities but that my disdain was preventing the character in the dream from coalescing properly. It was as if my distaste was preventing the formation of a believable set of behaviors from coalescing. I had to take “him” and the idea of “him” seriously to get to the actual gem of knowledge.
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