UA 775 BOS ORD 0923 1120 320 3F Not having made the 0555 flight, I had plenty of time to chill at the United club and try to get my onward boarding passes, which would help my 85-minute connection in Hong Kong. Diane and Lynne at the desk were unable to crack the Thai code, but that was kind of OK, as I went to the Amadeus Website and got the information using a United PNR, and it was smooth sailing, as there is now a customer-use printer in the club, recently installed. All the paperwork was completed with time to spare, so I had a cup of hot chocolate before wandering down to the somewhat chaotic gate area, where they were trying to find me. My seatmate was one of the most unfailingly polite people I've ever flown with. He did have a cough, though. Flight attendants were pretty nice - a burly Asian guy and a petite blonde who worked the front. Breakfast was offered - French toast with vanilla sauce or quiche with mozzarella sauce, that was what I heard anyway. I said it didn't matter which I got. What came. The fruit appetizer had actual sweet, firm ripe fruit - a big strawberry, chunks of pineapple and cantaloupe, and some red seedless grapes. And the quiche, which as it turns out didn't have a sauce at all (I breathed a sigh of relief). The three half fingerlings looked interesting, so I decided to give potatoes a tabula rasa investigation. H'm. Bland and starchy with a little earthy undertone, the skins adding a metallic accent. They just cried out "nourishment," and I suppose if I were a nomad in the steppes or a starving tenant farmer, these might have been welcome. In my real life, there are better things to eat. Steamed asparagus viewed the same way seemed quite strange - people say that it was a brave soul who first ate an oyster (lobster, whatever). I wonder whose bright idea it was to try asparagus, whose appearance is peculiar and whose aroma is strange. They're chlorophylly and with a peculiarly unappetizing back aroma (something I don't remember from stir-fried or raw - it must take some heating to achieve this unpleasant condition). Quiche. A full restaurant-size serving of custard overheated to provide maximum spongy texture; pretty bland with a vaguely cheeselike flavor; minced red peppers here and there added nothing. An additional side was a chicken-basil sausage that had been heated to dry crumbliness, the texture robbing the palate of moisture and of the will to eat. A choice of biscuit or cinnamon roll. I chose the latter to take my mind off the detritus in front of me. Though not so nice as the old Continental rolls, it was fairly palatable. We landed 15 early, which greatly pleased me, as if we had been 15 late, my connection might have been tough to make. We also landed, miracle of miracles, 2 gates away from where our next aircraft was parked. It looked like half the passengers on the one flight were trooping over to the other. And come to think of it, I recall that the two at one time used to operate under the same number, with through flyers being cheated out of something like 700 miles. And, as I recall from the dim distant past, some upgrades, too.