I am in a large lecture hall with a number of younger students. The room has long black writing tables and an area at the front for the teacher to lecture. I am sitting at one of the classroom tables, drawing sketches for the new Bond website. I have a clear idea of how I want the site to work, but I am having trouble getting it down on paper. It seems like every drawing I do has something wrong with it.
Josh is up at the front of the room, discussing ideas for the site with the rest of the students. At a certain point I become alarmed because people are talking about ideas that I don’t agree with and aren’t what I’m envisioning for the site. I decide to go up to the front and share what I’ve been working on. When I review my sketches I try to find the one that is closest to what I’m imagining, but they’re all not quite right.
At the front of the room, Josh and I are seated behind a black panel with windows cut into it. From the perspective of the students, it looks like the teacher is talking to them directly, but behind the scrim we can talk privately, consult our notes, and even have snacks. Josh has a nearly full bottle of vodka and some sandwiches back there, and I help myself.
The students are getting quite agitated about our plans for the website. I can’t quite tell if they’re in junior high, college, or even if they’re young employees of Bond. They are shouting and arguing with both me and Josh. He’s pretty calm but I get increasingly frustrated. I yell back at them that their ideas are too boring an ordinary. I tell them that if they don’t understand why our vision is right for Bond, then maybe the problem is that they are not a good fit.
This makes them very upset and they decide to protest. The entire third row stands up and lights cigarettes. While they smoke, I call down to the main office to ask for help from security. The secretary in the office sounds bored and tells me they can’t really help solve this problem.
