Well, I'll tell you what it is. It's a fucking pissing-on-my-face rainstorm, that's what it is. I was out last night, four blocks from my destination, and the weather was something like this:
rain rain rain rain RAIN RAIN RAIN rain rain RAIN RAIN
That was a lot of fun at 10 o'clock on a Sunday night. What was even funner? Getting to the theater a half hour early only to hear that you're three hours late.
That's right, ticketmaster fucked up, said the show was gonna start at 10:30pm on their website and in their e-mail, when in reality the show started at 7:30, and I just missed 2/3 of the performers. For $40, I got to see 40 minutes of Henry Rollins (apparently, it was a case of each person going on stage one at a time and doing their sets).
I'm going to call Ticketmaster and harass them today. Do I expect to be refunded my money? Well, of course not! This is America, where the little man will always be trampled on by the fucking monopoly. Here's how I expect it to go:
Operator: Thank you for calling Ticketmaster, how may I help you?
Me: Hello, yes, I have a complaint. Your website and confirmation e-mail both said the show I wanted to see last night started at 10:30 when in reality it started at 7:30. I want my money back.
Operator: I'm sorry, we can't do that.
Me: Why not? You guys were clearly in the wrong!
Operator: So what? What are you gonna do about it? Sue us for 40 dollars? You're going to boycott Ticketmaster? We're the only game in town, bitch!
Me: Well, it's pretty unreasonable for me to have to call the venue in advance to confirm the time of the show; it's false advertising what you're doing.
Operator: Blow me.
So yeah, I could've enjoyed over 3 hours of entertainment from three performers I revere. Instead, I got drenched on the way to the theater, on the way out of the theater to the subway, and from the subway to my apartment, then spent the rest of the night drying off. It would've been funny if I didn't want to punch someone in the face for no reason.