Last night was epic.
I stayed in. Well, stayed round Dawn’s. We did nothing, but managed to spend at one point nearly £450.
These nights come around rarely.
For we were trying to get tickets for Glastonbury.
They went on sale at 8pm. We had four phones and the internet at our disposal. We couldn’t lose.
At eight on the dot we started. All the phones got an engaged tone and the website crashed. Things carried on at this rate until 3am. It got very boring after about two minutes.
But we both had good company and we persevered. Magically at about half three we got through to the page on the website to enter credit card details.
My god, we screamed, we laughed. We’d done it. The form was filled in and we clicked on process. Nothing happened. And nothing happened for a while, until a screen came up telling us that we had asked for too many tickets (2) and that there weren’t enough to sell. We were asked politely to try again later.
It can’t have sold out already? Must be a website fuck up. This morale sapping moment was, well, morale sapping.
An hour later we got back through on the website, by now too stoned to properly concentrate, again the website fucked up.
It was hopeless, what else could we do? It was now silly o clock. I figured that praying might be for the best. I say praying, I mean more bartering with Jesus (though I don’t actually believe in him, but don’t tell him that). I promised that if I gave up chocolate and learnt French by the time of Glastonbury then we good gets tickets. Dawn promised to pretend she believed in Jesus (very clever, and I think He fell for it).
We retired for the evening setting our alarms for 6am. We overslept and I was awoken by a sleepy Dawn at about nine. She’d gotten two emails, both from the ticket people confirming tickets .”Woo” I said, then she told me again. Two emails, each email with two tickets. £440. Ahem, not so woo.
Thanks to the new anti-tout restrictions, anyone caught trying to order more than two tickets may have all tickets canceled. And we couldn’t have that much cash trying to come out of her bank.
It’s ok, there was a helpline number. We rang it. It was engaged…