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Oh, my heart...
I almost had a crisis of nigh epic proportions.
Nick Cave tickets went on sale tonight. Internet pre sale at 11pm.
Open to the general public sale at midnight.
I swindled/begged/pleaded/okay, just asked my father if I could use his credit card to buy tickets for Thee Pumpkin Girl and myself. He said yes and over the phone, gave me the information.
I went to buy the tickets (GROUND FLOOR! STANDING ROOM! GENERAL ADMISSION! THIS EQUALS 'I CAN GET UP TO THE STAGE!') and when I arrived at the actual paying for it part of the show, found that it was asking me for a three digit number located on the back of one's credit card.
A three digit number that I hadn't thought of asking for, since the last time I bought from Ticketbastard it wasn't required.
Commence freaking out, crying, profanity falling from my lips in copious amounts. General railing at the world about my stupidity for not asking for this three digit code.
The critical moment arrives, it almost midnight. I'm commiserating with TPG about our state of not having tickets, when I realise that Wemble is online. So, shot in the dark, I ask her for a REALLY big favour.
Wemble, if I hadn't mentioned before, is a kind and beautiful and gracious person.
^_^
In other words, she bought the tickets for TPG and I.
an excerpt from the ensuing wackiness, if you will:
me: Which means we can very well bulldozer our way up front.
Thee Pumpkin Girl: *faint*
me: standing room!
Thee Pumpkin Girl: that's what we got?
me: she just pasted to me.
me: yes!
Thee Pumpkin Girl: same thing?? ga??
me: LEVEL 1
FLOOR STANDING ROOM
GENERAL ADMISSION
Thee Pumpkin Girl: \M/
Thee Pumpkin Girl: dood. please espouse gutteral chitters to wemble for me!
me: oh hell yeah
Thee Pumpkin Girl: which night?
me: not sure yet.
Thee Pumpkin Girl: *slobber*
Thee Pumpkin Girl: and we will get close. you remember how i kicked that old man in the ass to get to the front of the balcony?
me: yep!
Thee Pumpkin Girl: heheheheh
me: RAWR!
Thee Pumpkin Girl: !!!!!
I almost had a crisis of nigh epic proportions.
Nick Cave tickets went on sale tonight. Internet pre sale at 11pm.
Open to the general public sale at midnight.
I swindled/begged/pleaded/okay, just asked my father if I could use his credit card to buy tickets for Thee Pumpkin Girl and myself. He said yes and over the phone, gave me the information.
I went to buy the tickets (GROUND FLOOR! STANDING ROOM! GENERAL ADMISSION! THIS EQUALS 'I CAN GET UP TO THE STAGE!') and when I arrived at the actual paying for it part of the show, found that it was asking me for a three digit number located on the back of one's credit card.
A three digit number that I hadn't thought of asking for, since the last time I bought from Ticketbastard it wasn't required.
Commence freaking out, crying, profanity falling from my lips in copious amounts. General railing at the world about my stupidity for not asking for this three digit code.
The critical moment arrives, it almost midnight. I'm commiserating with TPG about our state of not having tickets, when I realise that Wemble is online. So, shot in the dark, I ask her for a REALLY big favour.
Wemble, if I hadn't mentioned before, is a kind and beautiful and gracious person.
^_^
In other words, she bought the tickets for TPG and I.
an excerpt from the ensuing wackiness, if you will:
me: Which means we can very well bulldozer our way up front.
Thee Pumpkin Girl: *faint*
me: standing room!
Thee Pumpkin Girl: that's what we got?
me: she just pasted to me.
me: yes!
Thee Pumpkin Girl: same thing?? ga??
me: LEVEL 1
FLOOR STANDING ROOM
GENERAL ADMISSION
Thee Pumpkin Girl: \M/
Thee Pumpkin Girl: dood. please espouse gutteral chitters to wemble for me!
me: oh hell yeah
Thee Pumpkin Girl: which night?
me: not sure yet.
Thee Pumpkin Girl: *slobber*
Thee Pumpkin Girl: and we will get close. you remember how i kicked that old man in the ass to get to the front of the balcony?
me: yep!
Thee Pumpkin Girl: heheheheh
me: RAWR!
Thee Pumpkin Girl: !!!!!
