GOT up to buy Oasis tickets in your lucky bucket hat and round sunglasses? These are the six stages of your failure:
‘Mad for it’
Like Oasis you’re rock ’n’ roll, so you slide into bed at 1am after a night on the bourbon with memories of them at Maine Road, at Knebworth, and at Glastonbury the good time swirling around your head. You attended none of those gigs but they’re on YouTube.
‘Pre-sales are for losers’
Ballot for tickets? No need, they’re playing to 1.25 million people mate. Pre-sales are for Beyoncé fans. Nah, you’ll just log on to the Ticketmaster and pick up two for one of the most hotly anticipated events of the decade. After all, there wasn’t all this fuss when you saw Kasabian in 2012.
‘9am’s a bit early’
Up before 11am? On a day off? Fine, whatever. Your mate Dave has been up since 6am setting up multiple computers and phones each with multiple browsers open, the try-hard bellend. You make a cup of tea before casually opening your laptop at 9.07am.
‘I’m f**king where in the queue?’
According to the site there are 70,987 people ahead of you in the queue. What the actual f**k? You watch the number stay stubbornly the same for two minutes, then it crashes. By the time you get back in you’re 100,545th in the queue. You bet at least 50,224 of them are kids who only know five Oasis songs.
‘Sold out? Piss off’
Eight minutes of waiting, which frankly seems a bit long compared to Amazon, and you’re on a new page. Excitedly you learn forward and read ‘Sold out’. What, the first Saturday at Heaton Park? And the others? All gone, 1.25 million in ten minutes? Actually, now you think you remember not listening to your wife saying something similar about Taylor Swift.
‘They’re shit anyway’
You told Dave you’d ‘see him down the front’, but he’s got four tickets and you’ve got none. He offers you one if you book the hotel, but they’re £900. You open Spotify and stick on Cast, muttering you’d prefer to see a proper band in an intimate venue anyway.
