I don't know CT's geography.
As I'm sure I've mentioned, my dad owns a bookstore. And as I'm sure I've also mentioned, Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows came out last week.
These two facts combine in this post. Sadly, this is not the logical post, about the Harry Potter Party. I'll get to it.
Instead, this is about a third thing I mentioned: that yesterday, I did a lot of driving.
So, Dad called on Monday, let's say eleven in the morning, right about when I was getting serious about writing some fiction. Every time I have a worthy intention, that is the time it is thwarted. God does not want me to prosper! But so it goes. The job was simple: there were sixty copies of Deathly Hallows sitting in the UConn Co-op, up in Storrs. By the end of the day, they needed to be in Westerly, RI. Was I a bad enough man to handle a job like that?
I agreed at once, and (after a brief time on Google Maps. One of these words is foreshadowing; be ye warned!) got into the car, feeling very much like Jason Statham.
Only, not so many NPR podcasts.
It turns out that there is a reason for that. People who are listening to high-octane, high-BPM, high-bass music may drive in a way that makes the Geico gecko squirm and go deaf. But it doesn't prevent you from missing the fact that Route 32 only goes on Route 2 for about two and a half miles, thereby tricking you to drive all the way to Gilman before you notice your mistake.
Don't know where these places are? Don't worry: I live in CT, and I haven't the foggiest, as we shall discover.
After a while, I realized my mistake, turned around, missed the exit that said Rt. 32 on the east-bound, turned around again, and eventually found myself headed up 32, which (according to the yellow post-it I'd crudely copied the directions onto) would take me right to Storrs.
Or, so I thought.
It turns out that 32 doesn't really go through Storrs; it passes very close, through Eagleville, which is less than two miles away from the U-Conn campus. But Storrs itself? Not quite. And, contrary to what I'd expected, even though the U-Conn campus is the largest thing around after Willimantic, I didn't see big signs saying "This way to Storrs! This way to UConn!" There probably was a sign for Storrs. But if there was, I didn't see it.
And, because I hadn't written the directions down very well and , and because my mind was sort, I kept driving.
Eventually, I realized that I'd been driving a bit longer than I thought I should have been. Stopping at a gas station where the prices were suspiously low, I asked someone filling up their tank what town I was in.
It was soon apparent that it wasn't a matter of towns, so much as states.
So, in summary: a trip that was, in theory, to go something along these lines instead took a form similar to... this.
Only of course, even this map ignores the fact that it took me a half hour to find the co-op once I got to Storrs.
So: Lessons. The lesson I'm not taking from this is the obvious one, the one which conflates specific instances of incompetence with general worthlessness. Instead, I'm looking at this as a Mesarue Twice, Cut Once type deal. With a hefty helping of "Turn of your podcasts, you idiot, and use the fucking road map."
And that's how the day gets wasted.