We Got the Tickets!

When I talked Mark into moving to Chicago I made three  promises. One, he'd get a brand new, deluxe, gourmet kitchen. Two, I would pay off his Visa bill. Three, I'd get him tickets to Hamilton. The first two were really easy. It's the third thing that would be a problem. At ten in the morning yesterday, Hamilton tickets went on sale. I had two options. I could go down to the Loop and stand in line with the rest of the mopes who were buying for scalpers, or I could try to buy the tickets online. I chose to sit at home in my underpants and buy the tickets online. At exactly ten o'clock I hit the button and entered the Ticketmaster hell hole. For the first ten minutes all I could get were error messages. Finally, after many tries, I was in. I picked out two nice seats in the Orchestra section and hit enter. A message  popped up telling me that it would be a forty five minute wait. So I waited while a little wheel spun, counting down the minutes. Sure enough, forty five minutes later something happened. Ticketmaster sent me back to the original page without any option for going forward. So I tried again, and again I had to wait. Only this time there was no spinning wheel, no countdown. Only a message telling me to sit tight, they were searching for seats. Over an hour later, over two hours since I had signed on to Ticketmaster, I gave up. Fuck  Hamilton, fuck Ticketmaster, fuck Broadway.

It is now five hours later, nearly six o'clock in the evening, and Mark lets out a scream of joy, "I got 'em. I got the tickets!"

Sure enough, after all the hoopla of the morning, after seeing ticket prices on the "secondary market" soar to over nine thousand dollars, Mark was able to secure two tickets at only eighty seven dollars apiece. Best of all, those two seats were right next to four hundred and ninety seven dollar seats. One was listed as limited view, and the other as obstructed view, and they were for a January performance. I don't give a shit, we got tickets, and if I have to I will lean over into those four hundred and ninety seven dollar seats for a better view, maybe even fart so that they'll move.