Tag Archives: Blink-182

To The Guy Who Sold Me Fake Blink 182 Tickets…

12 Sep
Who I didn't get to see last night...

Who I didn’t get to see last night…

I met you in Union Square where you sold me what I now know are fake Blink 182 tickets. I don’t know why you do what you do, I don’t know why you did what you did but I just cannot understand it. Does it make you feel good, taking people’s money like that? Of course it does. It mustOtherwise, why would you keep doing it. I doubt anyone has a gun to your head, but if they do–duck and run!

I should have known the tickets were fake. I got a burning feeling in the pit of my stomach immediately after I bought them from you that they were. They didn’t feel quite right. They were on the thick side and somewhat glossy. The ink looked a little too bold and prevalent on the backdrop of the ticket. They were fake, but it was too late so I just told myself I was being paranoid. You had already disappeared into the crowd of street performers, coffee-drinkers and commuters. I was stuck with those tickets.

You said you were a fan. You said you wish you could go but work got in the way. I believed you because I didn’t have any reason not to.

So I showed up to the venue in Brooklyn. Nervous, but incredibly excited. My favorite band was playing and I couldn’t wait to see them go on. I passed through security and waited in a small line. The girls in front of me got turned away because their tickets wouldn’t scan. Their tickets were fake. At that moment it felt like my entire body was on fire. The burning sensation had spread and I couldn’t handle it. For at that moment my fears became a reality and I learned that people like you actually exist. Finally, it was my turn–my tickets didn’t scan. The tickets you sold to my friend and I were fake. But you knew that. You knew I would travel all the way to Brooklyn by way of the L train which I had made it my life mission never to take, but for Blink 182 it was worth it. But this would end up being for nothing but disappointment and tears. Yes, I cried. YOU made me cry.

I didn’t get to see them play any of my favorite songs–like “Stay Together for the Kids” a song about divorce which I relate to tenfold. Or “Dammit” or “Carousel” or “Man Overboard” or ANYTHING. Instead I was stuck listening to “Adam’s Song” alone in my room and any Blink fan knows how depressing that can be.

It’s not about the money. You robbed me of an experience that I will never get back.

People go to concerts for the experience–they want to feel the music they’ve listened to so many times through their headphones and car stereos. They want to see it, hear it, feel it, live it. I wanted all of that too. Yes, I’ve seen Blink 182 live several times but this show was special. It was a charity show, which makes what you did all the more disgraceful. But it wasn’t just me, it was DOZENS of fans. Dozens of people who just wanted to escape for a few hours. The bouncer told me he counted at least 50, and from the description another girl gave me of the guy who sold her fake tickets, it was you. You and a friend or a group of guys setting out to just make some money.

Sure, maybe this was my fault for not examining the tickets closer but I just never thought that this would happen. I have too much faith in humanity sometimes and my excitement for having found someone to sell me their tickets clouded my judgement. I should have known. I should have known…

I should have realized that after I was stood up two times by who I believe to be two different people I arranged to meet to buy tickets from that I wasn’t meant to go to this concert. But I wanted to so badly. Third time’s a charm, right? You were the third, so I guess that saying doesn’t always apply…

But this isn’t my fault. It’s yours. You knew I was excited to see them–otherwise why would I have sought you out? You took advantage of me. Yes, it could have been worse and you could have written the script for The Craigslist Killer Part Two, but you didn’t. So, thank you for that. But I’m still upset with you.

I’m not angry, I’m just upset. I am hurt, and I don’t even know you. You did seem like a nice guy, but I suppose that’s how con artists are, right? And don’t think for a second that’s not what you are because that is what you are.  I found myself wondering last night if your parents know what you do. Do they know when you say you’re “going to work” that it means you’re just in a basement somewhere putzing around with paper and ink, gearing up for your next fake-out? Does your mother know?

Blink 182 will come around to New York again sometime soon I’m sure and you’ll get down to business making your fake tickets again–but I hope you don’t. I hope you stop. You cheated over 50 people this week. FIFTY. Isn’t that enough? I couldn’t sleep last night knowing I had been cheated–could you sleep knowing you were the cheater

I know you’ll never see this letter and I know this letter won’t accomplish anything except for helping me get my feelings out in the open and somewhere other than my mind. I know you’ll keep manufacturing and selling fake tickets. I know you’ll spend the money in a way that makes you happy. I just hope that maybe, just maybe, some of that money you made by ripping off 50+ people will go towards something good. Maybe a charity–maybe a few dollars in a homeless man’s change cup. I must restore the same faith I had in humanity that led me to thinking no one would ever make and sell me, or anyone for that matter, a fake ticket and apply it to this scenario. I must hope that the money isn’t going towards something negative, even though it sort of already has. Wherever you are, I hope you’re happy because in the end, everyone deserves happiness, but just know that in this scenario your happiness comes at the expense of others.

Time will pass and we’ll both forget about this. It’s a new day. I’m still upset but I feel better now. I’m sure you don’t care, but I just want you to know that just because you have my money doesn’t mean you’ve won. You’ll lose at some point and maybe then you’ll finally realize what you’ve done–what you’ve been doing–is wrong.

Thanks to you, I couldn’t be that girl anyone fell in love with at the rock show last night…

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Birfday

10 Aug

     So it is now 1:30 AM, making it officially no longer birthday, but I wrote this post with the intention of it still being my birthday when it was written, so let’s just pretend it’s still August 9th, ok? thanks.

     So this is it, my 19th birthday. Everyone keeps asking me “so how’s it feel to be 19?!” or “do you feel any older?” and to be honest, I always respond with “the same as yesterday” or “no?”, respectively. Today started out kind of depressing, in a weird way, which made me wonder if birthdays always suck so much, and why do people always feel the need to be douche bags when there’s new people in the room? Why do they feel the need to impress someone they’re only going to see once in their lives? The people I started my birthday with at midnight are usually some of the most loving and caring people I know, but they were acting off…blame it on the Goose, I guess. It kind of made me feel like crap, so I kind of thought of pulling out the “…but it’s my birthday” card, but then I remembered it wasn’t even my birthday at that very moment, and I absolutely HATE that card. Jokers are better. 

     Anyways, I rang in the big one-nine with a few of my sorority sisters, and a random dude, in NJ, just outside Camden, the crime capitol of the U.S, and my future hometown. I sat and watched my friends play some absurd drinking game with cards, that was apparently named after some Scottish man with turrets featured on a Youtube video…I’m sure he’d be honored to know people are drinking in his honor. I still don’t understand the game, but all I know is that I was referred to as “The Met Fan” for the entire duration of the game because everyone there was a Phillies fan, or “Phan”. So, things seemed weird to me, and with that, I went up to bed, and attempted to sort my life out, in my head, and tried to plan at what age certain things would happen. But then I realized that you can’t just plan out life, that’s just not how it works. Life may have a plan for you, and you may have a plan for life, but life always wins, and there’s never anything you can ever do to change that. Many people try, but none succeed. I never feel different than before on my birthdays, but right now, I feel odd, I feel out of it, and lost. I know I;m still so young, but I like to round up, so I’m basically 20, which means I’m graduating college soon…but not really…and there’s still so many things I have yet to do. I need to stop setting such unrealistic goals for myself, because I always just end up disappointed. 

     After all of that nonsense that I wrote at about 2:00AM on my birthday, I went to bed and woke up to a wonderful 2 hour drive home. I stopped at my father’s house, we went out for brunch. Then I stopped at my cousins house, we talked for a few minutes, and then I traveled home, with one quick stop at a store, to pick up a cupcake, so I could blow out a candle on my birthday, because everyone should get to do that on their special day! Then I arrived home, met my friend, and we traveled along to the Blink-182, Fallout Boy, Panic at the Disco concert at Jones Beach! It’s safe to say that it was one of the most amazing concerts I have ever been to, and my plan to marry Tome Delonge (Blink’s singer) is still in the works, even though he’s married…and I’m pretty sure he has kids, oh well. Regardless, it was an amazing performance by all the acts, even Chester French (a newcomer) who loved profanity, and told us to put our arms up in a V–like a Vagina. But the 5 years Blink was off the scene allowed them to marinade, and become more flavorful performers, because the last time I saw them live, they were great, but this time, they were ABSOLUTELY AMAZING! Even more-so than the milk left over from a sugary cereal, which is always the best, and most delicious part! 

     Despite the day’s lackluster start, it turned out to be one of my favorite birthdays yet! Even though the people I saw weren’t in their best state, I still got to see them, and spend some of my day with them, which is all that matters to me. In the end, my birthday is just the celebration of my mom’s first moment of relief in 9 months, and over 24 hours of labor (sorry mom, you always ate such good food while I was in the woom) until they knocked her out and deemed me a C-Section baby, short for cesarian (one of my favorite words) section. I guess this is like a real mother’s day, so thanks for not giving up mom! If 24+ hours of pushing and failing isn’t love, then I don’t know what love is!

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