Eff You, North Terrace!

I was at work on Friday and found out that I was going to get a few more Benjamins than I expected from this job. So I decided to splurge and go to see My Morning Jacket on Sunday night. I first looked for just one ticket, because I don't know any other big MMJ fans. BOOM, as soon as I hit up Ticketmaster, one ticket in the pit popped up. SCORE. Now, I thought this was odd, as the show has been on sale for months. But that nagging voice in the back of my brain that tries to make me a social animal begged me to check what kind of seats were available for two. I figured I'd try to badger my friend J into going, since our musical tastes are very similar and she's going to the Raconteurs with me on Monday.

I searched for two tickets, and they were wayyyy in the back. Like, my car would have been closer to the stage than my seat. So I said, "screw friendship" and I went back to get my single pit ticket. I log back in, type those illegible, senseless words that they use to make sure that Mr. Roboto is not trying to buy tickets, and search for one ticket, best available. I'm told that best available is in the north terrace. WHAT? GIVE ME MY PIT TICKET! I WAS HERE FIRST! My exceptional math skills soon led me to deduce that if the best available single ticket was in the pit, and the best available tickets for two were in the back, that I was given the opportunity to buy the VERY LAST pit ticket. And I passed. By actually trying to be a sociable person, I got the shaft. And it had spikes on it.

Eff you, north terrace. And eff you, friendship.