I Heart Hartford

On this Valentine’s Day, it seems appropriate to note that this weekend I unexpectedly fell in love – with Connecticut. Well, maybe it was just more of a quality weekend fling. I don’t think I’m looking for any long-term commitment to The Constitution State.

Anyway, here’s why the whole thing went so well. I was in Hartford for the UNC-UConn game, and being that it was a Sunday 1 p.m. job, I was in town from Saturday evening to Monday. Saturday night, we went out in downtown Hartford, which was a surprisingly good time.

At the restaurant where we ate dinner, The Red Plate, the men’s room featured a small string with a ball on the end of it coming from a hole in the wall next to the toilet. A small sign above the string read: “Pull if you need help.” What service! I couldn’t, as I stood preparing to urinate, think of anything I needed “assistance” with (no matter how much I would like to flatter myself). Only in Hartford, I guess.

Sunday night, after the game, Robbi, Jeff and I opted to take a 45-minute ride out to the Mohegan Sun casino to shed some of our white-people guilt (read: cold hard cash). At first, both Robbi and Jeff were hesitant – notably Jeff, who had a 6 a.m. flight back to Greensboro. They had decided we weren’t going, until the following conversation took place in my hotel room.

Me: We don’t have to go, it’s fine.
Jeff: Well, I mean if everyone else wants to, I could be persuaded.
Robbi: Well, if we’re going to go, we should go now.
Me: Let’s do it!

Five minutes later we’re in the car on the way to Uncasville, Connecticut, with only the most marginally sketchy directions on how to get to the casino. But they don’t hide those things. Any place that wants to take your money makes itself easy to find, and 40 minutes later we were on an elevator to the casino floor.

I’ll spare the details of the gambling itself, aside from saying Robbi was very lucky, Jeff was pretty lucky, and I could not be reached for comment. The one fun moment for me, though, was when things turned Swingers-esque. I was drinking Jacks and Cokes (cue Penelope Cruz voice from Vanilla Sky) on the regular at my blackjack table, so the waitress just kept ‘em coming when she happened by each time.

But thanks to a full bladder and a desire to find the Let It Ride tables, we abandoned blackjack and headed across the casino. Part of the way into our journey, the waitress saw me and said, “Hey, aren’t you the Jack and Coke guy?” before handing me another drink.

I tried not to laugh as I thought of the scene in Swingers where the waitress goes into her whole “I carried that stupid Scotch around on my tray for an hour” schtick. Luckily I resisted the impulse to flip her a silver dollar and set up a 6 a.m. rendezvous. But it still would have been nice for someone, anyone, to tell me that I was so money and I didn’t even know it.