On a plane, right-side window seat, flying into LA. It's mostly normal, but is filled with stuff - piles of things all over the backs of seats. There's an attendant sitting in front of me, and one beside me, and they won't sit down. They keep fiddling around with stuff, and it's annoying the guy in front of me. As we come in to the runway, we're way too long and fast. We abort that and pull up to make another run. The captain comes on and says that we have permission to land at the Toshiba runway, which is only x distance out of the way. We bank around and line up for that. The Asian attendant sits down next to me finally. She looks like LL. I can't see down the aisle anymore though. As we approach, I can see the runway, and it's huge and lit up. We come down for a pretty uneventful landing, but as we zoom along, I wonder if we're going to hit a wall. A felt jacket of mine is on the back of the seat in front of me, I think it would be stupid to put it over myself if I lean forward, since the fireball that comes over the tops of the seats will just ignite it. The attendant and I chat briefly. I mention how much I hate flying, and she laughs, and says "don't worry, I'll protect you." Thanks dipshit. We're on the ground already. I look out the window, and see that we're stopped at a city intersection. Cars are going by all around.

Then we're in line, getting ID checked. There are two lines, but the right one ends up ahead, because some guy selling Polish sausage is blocking it. I get to the first guy checking, and he looks at my passport for a second. I start to go on, but he stops me, and looks again. Then he lets me go.