Ain’t going down ’til the sun comes up: Part 2

funny entertainment blog-Garth Brooks

In part one of our story, Lincee’s infatuation with Garth Brooks’ music began. Part two embellishes the dramatic events that unfolded before the actual concert ticket purchase. Enjoy.

I remember the day well. I was in the drive-thru line purchasing a number four combo with a Diet Dr Pepper when the announcement came through loud and clear on my car radio. The rumors were true. Garth Brooks is coming to Houston.

Immediately my phone blew up. Our fearless leader Emily had been tracking (read: stalking) his website for months. And now our dreams were about to become a reality. We marked our calendars for May 8, waiting in anticipation for the day we could purchase our tickets. There were 10 of us committed to the cause. Yet only two could commit to the actual purchase of said tickets.

Me and Emily.

The pressure was tremendous. You see, tickets were sold in a raffle format. That means that every single seat in Toyota Stadium is a flat $75. Once you sign on and choose a day and time, the computer assigns you a seat based on a combination of random selection and place in line. Emily and I also prayed it up for good measure. We wanted all of our bases covered.

May 8 finally rolled around. Ticketmaster told us that we needed to be ready to order tickets at 10:00 a.m. sharp. Naturally, Emily called me two hours prior to make sure I was up and ready.

I was already hitting refresh.

Because Emily is a smart person, she read her instructional emails which mentioned a very important detail that I had skimmed right over. We had to start standing in a virtual line at 9:00 a.m. Around 8:45, Emily called to discuss timing, nervous stomachs and the reality that we may have to sit in the nose bleed section if we aren’t completely focused on the task at hand.

Suddenly, Emily tells me that her computer has changed. She’s in virtual line! And it’s only 8:54! I quickly refresh my screen. I’m in virtual line too! What does it all mean?

Who cares. I can finally go to the bathroom. Moments like these give me the runs.

Emily and I check in via text, forcing ourselves to do some actual work. But it’s no use. Soon we are back on the phone, staring at our computers in silence. Ticketmaster tells us that a small digital man will begin running across the bottom of our screens when the time comes. Emily reminds me to log-in to my account to see if I remember my password and if my information is correct. Every second we can shave off may make a difference. We wait. And wait. And wait some more.

Then the clock strikes 10:00 a.m. and my man starts running.


[pause for dramatic effect]

Emily: My man isn’t really running.
Lincee: Mine isn’t either. It’s more of a saunter.

Emily: This is not a running man. This is a walking man.
Lincee: My man is broken…

In a split second, my man began running across the bottom of my screen. I had no time to adjust. I just began screaming in Emily’s ear. I screamed helpful things, like, “What do I do?” and “How many tickets am I buying?” and “WHAT DO I DO!?!”

The screen changes. Ticketmaster asks me for my date. I choose and only one time is provided. I take it. Emily shouts encouragements from the other end. I select my tickets and choose the handy one-click button for my purchase convenience. I click a few boxes, agree to a few terms and wait for the results.

Floor. Tenth row. Section A. Lord help me.

I keep my cool because Emily is now screaming that her man is running. She goes through the same process as I did, excited to announce that she is on the floor too!

We celebrate our stellar ticket purchasing skills through a mass email with the others. This concert is going to be epic. There’s only one thing left to do.

Decide what to wear.

In the final installment of “Ain’t Going Down ‘Til the Sun Comes Up,” we’ll discuss the actual Garth Brooks concert, including times Lincee almost cried. Stay tuned!


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