Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday . . .
Here's one for ya . . .
I'm sittin' at the computer, after having just watched another exciting episode of Miami Ink, and it suddenly dawns on me that I have yet to purchase my tickets for the much-anticipated Denver showing of the upcoming Disney tribute to Boy Bands - "Puberty on Ice". So, I take a deep breath, check to make sure the furniture is still adequately covered in plastic and reluctantly head over to the dark-side of the internet - the dreaded Ticketmaster website. Oh, the horror!
Now I'm no expert, but does it really have to cost an extra $49.95 per ticket just to assure that the ticket sold to me is actually one which the venue will recognize as a legitimate ticket? I've been around awhile, but I've certainly never heard of an "Authentic Ticket Fee". Shouldn't the 2nd home loan I took out cover that as well as the ticket price? Apparently not . . . but thankfully they did offer additional insurance.
A week and a half later, a uniformed delivery boy appeared at my front door. The darn weasle had my tickets in his sweaty little hand, but all he would do was show them to me (and dance around making faces at me) until I agreed to pay the $29-per-ticket "Personal Delivery" fee. Now, we here at Procrastination Station would certainly never promote violence or abuse of minors, but if you remember that scene in the movie "Vacation", where Clark W. Griswold freaks out and cold cocks the Marty Moose statue in the nose . . . I'm pretty sure my exchange with Little Lord Fountleroy went something like that. If I'd have had a petrified twinkie, I might have really crossed the line. Those things leave a nasty bruise when you throw them as hard as you possibly can.
Okay - I'm not proud of myself. But I do have my front-row tickets safely magneted to the front door of the fridge. And I only had to donate blood twice to raise enough money to pay for them. Who's laughing now, Ticketmaster?
That's when I hear that the local radio station is giving away free tickets to the first 375 callers who can correctly identify all 7 days of the week.
Why is there never a petrified twinkie laying around when you need one?
Ben O.
I'm sittin' at the computer, after having just watched another exciting episode of Miami Ink, and it suddenly dawns on me that I have yet to purchase my tickets for the much-anticipated Denver showing of the upcoming Disney tribute to Boy Bands - "Puberty on Ice". So, I take a deep breath, check to make sure the furniture is still adequately covered in plastic and reluctantly head over to the dark-side of the internet - the dreaded Ticketmaster website. Oh, the horror!
Now I'm no expert, but does it really have to cost an extra $49.95 per ticket just to assure that the ticket sold to me is actually one which the venue will recognize as a legitimate ticket? I've been around awhile, but I've certainly never heard of an "Authentic Ticket Fee". Shouldn't the 2nd home loan I took out cover that as well as the ticket price? Apparently not . . . but thankfully they did offer additional insurance.
A week and a half later, a uniformed delivery boy appeared at my front door. The darn weasle had my tickets in his sweaty little hand, but all he would do was show them to me (and dance around making faces at me) until I agreed to pay the $29-per-ticket "Personal Delivery" fee. Now, we here at Procrastination Station would certainly never promote violence or abuse of minors, but if you remember that scene in the movie "Vacation", where Clark W. Griswold freaks out and cold cocks the Marty Moose statue in the nose . . . I'm pretty sure my exchange with Little Lord Fountleroy went something like that. If I'd have had a petrified twinkie, I might have really crossed the line. Those things leave a nasty bruise when you throw them as hard as you possibly can.
Okay - I'm not proud of myself. But I do have my front-row tickets safely magneted to the front door of the fridge. And I only had to donate blood twice to raise enough money to pay for them. Who's laughing now, Ticketmaster?
That's when I hear that the local radio station is giving away free tickets to the first 375 callers who can correctly identify all 7 days of the week.
Why is there never a petrified twinkie laying around when you need one?
Ben O.
posted by Ben O. | 7:29 PM
12 Comments:
Miami Ink makes me want a tattoo.
and ticketmaster- ugh! i do all i can to avoid them. i'd rather drive an hour into town to a local music shop and purchase them there for $8 less in fees.
Puberty on Ice????!
I feel your pain on ticketmaster. I hate them so much that like just a girl, I will drive an hour to avoid paying their stupid fees - I wanted to go to Skinny Puppy last year. Tix were $20 until you added in all their fees, then they were something like $35. Ridiculous.
That sounds like a nightmare!
They are the Ticketmaster, and all you puppets are the ticketSLAVE.
Hey all - thanks for the great comments.
I am totally tattooless, but Miami Ink is absolutely fascinating to me for some reason. I get such a kick out of Yoji.
Terri and Master - if you haven't sensed it by now . . . I ain't too enthralled by the boy bands. That wasn't meant to be a knock on ice-skating in anyway.
Henry - you're probably right. Twinkies and cockroaches will certainly be the last things left.
Just be thankful there ain't no hidden fees here at the PS.
Take it easy all - Ben O.
MOM is back! I was especially happy to hear that you are "tattooless". I would recommend saving your money and putting it toward a 72 oz. steak or a trip to Cadillac Ranch -- a lot more fun!! Love you . . .
Everyone - say hello to Mom.
She loves steak and caddies.
(Has anyone else been to Amarillo lately?)
Love you - Ben O.
I bought tickets for the Elton John concert (stop laughin) through Ticketmaster. He canceled (Elton) and Ticketmaster refunded all my money except like 15 bucks-it was for "fees" the chick said.
What a bunch of BS! First the bitch cancels then the bitch on the phone won't give me back my money---
vicious cycle.
Hi Mom! *waving*
Sorry I said a bad word...I won't do it again, but even you know MOM that Elton is a bitch, right?
Hi MOM!
Aw c'mon Ben, 'fess up... you have a poster of Take That pinned up in your closet, don't you?!!
Kimmyk: I saw Elton live in Dublin a couple of months back. He's good but I recommend sticking to his cd's rather.. Rocket Man went on for close on 10 minutes!!!
Terri - what is this thing about the poster? I'm confused.
Elton has a few decent songs, but if I lived in Dublin, I would certainly save all of my Euros for U2.
Ben O.
My mom doesn't know I have a blog.
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