If It's Wednesday, This Must Be Connecticut

The fine city of Hartford, Connecticut might want to consider investing a little bit in some street signs - you know, those public labels that passing motorists can use to know what street they're on, and what side streets they're approaching?  It might have come in handy for me today.

I had meetings all morning in Burlington, Massachusetts, which didn't end until very nearly noon, and I had to make it to Hartford to access public files before the state office there stopped accepting file requests by 2:45. As it should only have been a 90-minute drive, it didn't seem like much of a problem, at least until I got to Hartford and soon realized that roadside navigation was not possible using street signs.  I made some interesting detours around the greater downtown area, including accidentally getting back on the interstate once, before I finally found the building that I needed by 2:15.  By the time I figured out the parking meter system and got up to the office, it was 2:25.  That's when I noticed that the sign behind the counter stated that they stopped accepting file requests at 2:30, not  2:45 like their web site said.  

Still, I had 5 minutes, and the kind clerk at the office took the time to handle my request, and told me that I could take all the time I needed to look at the files, as long as I was done by 4:00 pm.  As my meter would only allow me to park until 3:30, that wasn't going to be a problem.

I found what I needed and copied that documents that I needed to copy, and made it back to my car by 3:31 pm.  Surprisingly, considering the way my day had been going, I hadn't gotten a parking ticket yet. 

Since I now knew the way back onto the Interstate, I was able to find my way out of Hartford just fine (who needs street signs?) and drove on south to continue my working New England tour.  Tonight, I'm staying in a town in Connecticut called "Southington."  I don't know anything about Southington, except that according to the hotel's website, it's apparently only minutes away from Bristol, the home of ESPN, a town Keith Olberman once called, "the most God-forsaken place on Earth."

It seems pleasant enough to me, though.