Text 9770, 121 rader
Skriven 2014-02-11 02:18:00 av MICHAEL LOO (1:123/140)
Ärende: true end of trip 188
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The plan: go to the airport, have a few pops (the
house Bourbon at the club here is Evan Williams Black,
a somewhat premium pour and better than the Beam that
they charge $7 or 9 for), then get on the plane. I
decided that I didn't need a few pops. I sat there a
couple hours and worked on my Korea report from last
November instead (to be finished at some point). At
the end of this period, I decided to have a glass of
the stuff along with some yogurt raisins that also
come free. Then a banana, then more Bourbon, and
yessh, I think I-I-I'll ha-a-a-ve an-an-us-s-sher,
than-n-nk you very mush. So much for not needing.

UA1254 LAS IAH 0037 0525 738 2A

Needless to say, I snoozed through most of this flight.
I detected no catering to speak of, which is fine, as
they used to serve this appalling Mediterranean snack
plate that looked like the garbage from several
school lunches all mushed together, which succeeded
the almost as horrid deli platter (wet cold cuts and
cheese, dry bread, slimy potato salad). Now, a USAir-
style snack basket, which had Toblerones, of which I
had two, and at refill time I grabbed another one,
which made the flight attendant smile, or so it
seemed in the gloaming. We landed a hair early. It
was very cold for Houston; luckily I felt it only
on the jetbridge.

UA 477 IAH ORD 0718 0958 320 2B Ch9^

Another hour at the club, during which I thought of
using the shower room, which was vacant, but instead
it was another banana, no Bourbon this time.

This flight was the only one of the bunch to have
Air Traffic Communications on Channel 9, which is so
heavily advertised as a United exclusive. Being a
pretty much north-south route when most traffic
goes across, it was pretty tame but better than
nothing.

Breakfast was either the United version of the
sausage McMuffin or cornflakes. I said I'd prefer
the McMuffin thing but would not really care.
You see, catering used to provide ample numbers of
both choices, and the crew would get whatever was
left over; now, if there are twelve seats, there
are twelve meals loaded, and catering guesses how
many of each are going to be requested; sometimes
they are wrong, and this was one such occasion.
It's not as bad as during bankruptcy, when not only
did they play this game, but also they catered four
rolls for every ten passengers, which their stats
showed was the number usually consumed ... only
sometimes six or eight or ten people wanted them,
which means they got two or four or six dissatisfied
customers. I think they learned that lesson pretty
quickly.

Cornflakes came, and the flight attendant said that
she really appreciated my sacrifice, as it made her
life a lot easier. This came with the standard
fruit appetizer (rock hard honeydew, rock hard
cantaloupe, sour pineapple, two good grapes), a
thing of yogurt, and a thing of 2% milk. I know
what milk tastes like (bad), but I tried the yogurt.
Note to the wise: Yoplait Greek-style strawberry
yogurt is dreadful. I don't think it's all-natural
any more, either, though this might be an anomaly
of the airline version.

Choice of croissant or cinnamon roll. I made the
wrong choice. The croissant was bready and tasted
mostly of margarine. I partially remedied this by
smearing butter all over it.

We landed late this time - there was weather in
Chicago, mostly cold but a bit of the white variety.
I still had time to visit the club and virtuously
refrain from overtippling, having the almost equally
disastrous Coke instead, about a quart of it, and
you know how I am treated by caffeine. The bartender
at the club, who knows me by now, was a little
surprised.

UA1102 ORD IAD 1320 1604 753 5E
was 774 ORD BWI 1333 1624 319 2A

I'd planned this itinerary for the extra miles and
because I had a good chance to be in first class
for most if not all of it. The last leg was the most
problematic, as there were only 8 seats up front,
but it was at an off hour, so I figured I'd make
it, being Star Gold for life and a million miler
and so on. I was pleasantly surprised to find that
my upgrade cleared well ahead of time.

The day before, though, I got a notice that that
flight had been cancelled, so there went my plan.
The good news is that sleepless me got my messages
at 3 am, just a few hours after it had been sent,
and the situation got remedied speedily.

The agent on the phone was overimpressed by my
status and after trying to convince me to take a
nonstop from Houston to Washington got me a seat
up front on the Chicago-Dulles, which meant that
I lost only 23 miles instead of several hundred.

This flight, which I think should have had lunch
served on it, was catered only with pretzels,
nasty things, about which the crew were suitably
apologetic.

It was warmer in Washington when we landed than
it had been in Las Vegas.

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