Verified fans my rear

Spent a good chunk of the day vying for Taylor Swift tickets. I didn’t win the lottery to get a spot in the virtual hellscape of Ticketmaster’s queue, but Casey did.

He had meetings so I manned the task of watching a progress bar go unmoved for 4 hours. I’d text friends doing the same and commiserate on the process. We’d share dismay of seeing reseller sites fill up with tickets for thousands of dollars.

As they day wore on I started to wonder what my ceiling would be—how much would I be willing to spend to see this concert?

I came to the conclusion that watching the inevitable release on streaming would be just fine, thankyouverymuch.

And then the progress bar nudged.

Then it sped rapidly and didn’t time out or throw errors.

Tickets acquired for face value after 6 hours.

I balanced feeling elated with the reminder that so many systems are broken.