Last year when we heard Taylor Swift was going to play in Miami, NOLA and Indy, one of my colleagues said let’s try to get Miami tix.
If one gets in, we agree to take the other one.
Man, my ass signed up for the presale for two of the three Miami nights. I fortunately got a presale code; many didn’t.
Was about 6,000th in line at the presale. Competed like HELL once I got in to buy tix.
Didn’t get shit for either of my nights.
Crushed, I told the colleague of my failures. Asked how she fared.
Answer: “You had to sign up as a Verified Fan?”
I was SO MAD. It was an indicator of performance to come. Like, THINK, woman.
If I’d had my way about it, I would have chased tickets in NOLA during the pre-sale. I felt like that was the easier path. Especially since Caesars Superdome is a lot fucking bigger than Hard Rock Stadium.
In any event, I was on Facebook and got to talking to a fellow Swiftie named Maddison.
She knew of a girl, Emily, who bought four tickets and wanted to sell one of them.
Emily and I made a deal and nervously executed our first (for each of us) transaction like this.
I held my breath and sent her a big fucking sum of money. And she held her breath and parted with her spare ticket.
We didn’t talk for about a year. Before the show, I messaged her to say hey are you still using all your tickets, because my cousin is very interested in buying one.
Emily was very sweet and said everyone was still coming. She wondered if I was going to sell my seat to try to get two seats together with my cousin.
I said, no. You were so great to do business with. I am not giving up this seat for anything,
She said awesome and can’t wait to meet you there.
Fast-forward to the concert. I trip over a bunch of people with my water and booze to get to Seat 15.
There are three seats to my right that remain empty well into Gracie Abrams’ set.
There’s one seat to my left that’s empty.
I was SIMMERING.
Like, I figured the three empty seats were for Emily & Co. And if these bitches weren’t coming, I would have bought all the seats.
Two of five.
Meanwhile the empty seat to my left gets an occupant. She’s stinky, is the nicest thing I can say.
Finally the three seats get filled. A very pretty girl with her mom and aunt.
I kept trying to catch her eye, but no luck.
Then they all decide to go pee before Taylor gets on. They walk past me and the girl says, “Oh my gosh, I LOVE your dress.”
I said thank you and are you Emily? She smiles, says no, and promises this will be their only trip out of their seats.
So. Hmm.
So that means the girls I stumbled over were Emily and one of her people.
Now, she knew she sold Seat 15.
I did not know whether she owned 12-14 or 16-18.
Clearly I eliminated 16-18.
Would you believe none of these heifers to my left said boo to me before, during or after the show?
Stinky, woof. I mean, she kept to herself. But she must have had some of that gator sausage that the vendors were selling. But the dry-roasted ass smell was enough to make me vomit up my Lavender Haze.
All three of them.
Seriously, Caesars Superdome. Everyone loves nachos and brisket and sausage. But not when we are breathing each other’s air.
I ended up at Nina’s Creole Cottage after goddamn midnight to get some grub.
I still dream of her boudin balls.
In any event, I saw the girl on the other side of dry-roasted ass in the bathroom. I struck up a conversation and she was perfectly nice.
But she wasn’t Emily.
Ironically enough, I was standing in line at Cafe du Monde when I not only saw JH there with a tour group … but EMILY and the nice friend were three tables away.
I debated introducing myself then.
Stinky was nowhere to be seen. Table for two, in fact.
I was now steaming.
Obviously I COULD have bought that seat, as they were clearly not even talking to her at the show (and she kept leaving) and definitely not with her the next day.
So, I mean, I get that our relationship was transactional.
But Christ, you are there with 1-2 friends. Say fucking hello.
My cousin, who didn’t get to come even though I said grab a flight and enjoy my overpriced hotel with me, is an introvert. So she said maybe Emily is an introvert too.
I said sure but for the fact that her pretty friend was halfway social, you think she’d say oh hey we are glad you made it or some shit.
Anyway. I bought an actual fuckload of souvenirs for my cousin and her kid. They were supposed to be a Christmas gift. But with the election and American women in general sucking, I sent everything over the weekend.
I got us both a hand-painted tumbler with a Swiftie theme. Limited edition, Not available after the concert.
Hilariously she saw me comment in a forum about mine and she said she was kind of jealous. She even told her husband she was bummed she didn’t get one.
Then, boom, it arrived in the mail the next day.
I am magical.
I do wish she could have come. Honestly I didn’t have as much fun AT the NOLA show as I did at the Miami one.
(Thank you, resale.)
Miami show was fun AF.
But I had way more fun toddling around The Big Easy and shopping and eating and enjoying all the Swiftie love.
Anyway, I wish Emily and her pretty friend well. And I don’t have any thoughts about the other one. Shame she traveled all that way to not enjoy herself … when there’s someone who really would have loved to take her place.