The party and the armed guards

Date: 3/11/2018

It was nightime at the roof of this tall building. A large group of people were having a party up there. People weren’t acting crazy or doing anything insane, but there was a lot of people. The lighting up there was like that in a club, and it kind of gave off that atmosphere. You could see off the roof we were in a big city, and a lot of sky scrapers had their lights on and there were neon lights and road lights and car lights. We suddenly had to go downstairs. We were walked through by guards. As we walked through a door, for some reason, I instinctively knew there was a guy I apparently knew that was skinny with dreds who didn’t have a “coin” for membership. I was already ahead of the group, and I was hoping he could sneak through and get a coin. The group, as a whole, shuffled around in such a way that angered the guards and made them put them back in order, but the coinless man snuck through, and someone stealthily handed him a coin. I was happy for him. We were lined up in front of what looked like locker/shower rooms at the foot of the stairs, and these rooms were on the same side the stairs were. We all had bags and bookbags which I think we carried through the door. In front of us a little were two steps going up, caution tape, and 3 black humvees. There were 3 sets of steps around the base of the stairs - one on the left of the left staircase going down, one to the right of the right staircase going down (that’s where I am), and one in the middle of the staircases. These steps all led to doors that led to seperate locker rooms with toilets and showers. Up the two little steps, past the caution tape and immediately right was the outside world, the city, the street, freedom. There were at least two guards for every humvee. Everyone was asked to get their registration card out from their bags (like car registration - this makes sense to me because I do State Inspections for a dealership as part of my job so I can see why this is what I’m digging in my bag for). I procure it and the armed gaurd says it’s no good. I go back in to look some more and find a paper with passes for a safety inspection on it, but that’s it. I hand back the original registration. He tells me, “You know you guys are lucky you have guys like us guarding you.” I somehow take out a panzer from my bag from Call of Duty WW2. It’s the Merkur2 I think it’s called. The guard puts his hands on it, and says, “where did you get this? It looks like a bazooka from PlayStation 4?” I’m ready to start destroying humvees and fight the guards, and use the endless portal in my bag to do so when the dream cuts out.