I was traveling somewhere. I was in an airport -- Minneapolis, I think -- and I was drinking a beverage in a regular drinking glass, made out of glass. I finished my drink and went to wrap the glass in a plastic bag and put in inside my backpack when a woman stopped me. She was in some sort of uniform, although not a security uniform -- I remember that it was white and for some reason reminded me of the Australian exchange student who went to my high school. At any rate, she told me that glass was not allowed, and proceeded to search my bag, removing the glass I had just used, and another that I'd already had inside my bag.
The next thing I remember, I was looking for my gate. The tickets were like concert tickets -- that thing where there are three numbers: seat, aisle, and section. At any rate, I found one of the corresponding numbers, but not the other two, so I stopped in a store to ask someone. The man told me that the gates were numbered sort of like a slot machine in that the convergence of all three of the numbers that I needed was more or less random. Since I had found the third number (but not the first two), he suggested that I concentrate my energy on either the first or second number, and maybe I would get luckier there.
The next thing I remember, I was on an airplane. We were gradually climbing, but I felt a reasonable amount of safety -- everything appeared to be going according to plan. I was not traveling with anyone, and was looking around, just sort of taking in peoples' faces, and their expressions. Then we abruptly started falling backwards. People weren't panicking, but we were all looking around, aware that we were crashing. I wondered why the pilot and/or the flight attendants weren't making any sort of announcement (they never did). I instinctively started to reach for someone's hand, for reassurance, but then I realized that all of the people around me were strangers, and that I had to deal with dying alone.