You're the one who started that trend, EQ! It's your fault!
Part 3
The one obvious issue I had was that fact that the confirmation sheet did not come with the accompanying tickets. All I had were my original "meh" tickets. So the plan was this: Enter the building with my tickets, go to the preshow, then go down to the floor and access the upgrades using only a confirmation sheet and some A game fanagling skills. Sounds simple, right?
We had a nice time at the pre-show, which started about 2 hours before the show. Plenty of time to "lose" my tickets! Watched Fiction Plane from afar, then it was Policetime soon so I buried the real tickets deep into my pocket and into non-existence, put the confirmation sheet in my wallet and headed for the floor. We walked down the concourse and into the lower bowl, and down the stairs to the floor access where security personnel were checking tickets. Oh boy. It's go time now. Time to act. I walk up and she says, "Tickets, please." So I pull out my wallet and look inside, give a confused look, pat my pockets and pretend to search them thoroughly, turn to my wife and say, "Do you have the tickets, hon?” She checks her purse to no avail. Then I say, "You know what? I'm pretty sure I left them on our table at the preshow restaurant up there. But I have the confirmation sheet I received from the good folks at Ticketmaster." She looks at the sheet for a second and simply says, "Okay." and lets us through. Yes! Hallelujah! Piece of cake! Home free, right? Not exactly.
As I surveyed the front rows I realized just how great the prospective seats were. Fifth row, fourth, third, second. I've never been this close for anything. OMG there is THE Chariot! But then I noticed that people in the vicinity all had pink wristbands. The first three rows of the floor had to be issued the pink bands at their seats. That's when I realized that there was an additional, unexpected line of much tighter security to penetrate. I started feeling like that guy from the movie Midnight Express where he's got 15 keys of hash strapped to his torso and he's almost through the Turkish customs and his heartbeat's racing, etc. Then, as soon as I took one step into the row this big, burly, prickly guy stops me. The guy's built like a Silverback, and he has a roll of pink wristbands. He glares through me for a moment like he knows what I'm all about then says, "I'm gonna need to see your tickets." So I give him the same routine. I pull out my wallet and look inside, give a confused look, pat my pockets and pretend to search them thoroughly, turn to my wife and say, "Do you have the tickets, hon?” She checks her purse to no avail. Then I say, "You know what? I'm pretty sure I left them on our table at the pre-show restaurant up there. But I have the confirmation sheet..." then he cuts me off abruptly and says, "Nope. You have to have the tickets. Unless you have the actual tickets, there is no way that you are sitting there tonight." I pleaded with him and bluffed by asking if he could radio up to the restaurant to see if someone could have found or turned in the (non-existent) tickets, but he refused to. This guy was a supreme dickhead. He held his ground firmly and was ready to escort us out, so I became more desperate and insisted that he call his one of his supervisors so they could verify over the phone if indeed the seats were mine. Another bluff! This time he complied with my request and called his supervisor. It was the longest 5 minutes ever. Standing there shitting bricks wondering if I was even going to get to see the show at all.
To be concluded.....
