The 43 Stages of Buying Taylor Swift Tickets
Because I am a) basic and b) completely financially irresponsible, I bought Taylor Swift tickets. It ended up being a Whole Thing. Here’s how I managed to go from “not even bothered,” to “take all my money, Tay Tay!” in 43 easy steps…
01. I hope Taylor doesn’t come to Scotland if she tours. Because if she doesn’t come to Scotland, I can’t try to get tickets; which means I can’t spend money I don’t have on tickets, OR have the FOMO of not having got tickets when everyone else did. God, that would be amazing.
02. If she does come to Scotland, though, I’m not even going to TRY to get tickets. I’m just going to be sensible, and stay at home that night, feeling smug about all the money I’ve saved.
03. And be wildly jealous of all the people who DID get tickets, obvs.
04. Still, she probably won’t even come here, anyway.
05. Shit, two nights in Edinburgh!
06. I might as well just register. It’s not like I’ll get a code, after all.
07. Should really have made every single person I know register, too. Just in case.
08. OK, Mum has registered! That gives me two chances to not get a ticket. Not that I’ll get a code anyway.
09. It’d actually be better if I DON’T get a code. At least that way I won’t have to play the Hunger Games of trying to get a ticket.
10. God, I hope I get a code, though.
11. What if I don’t get a code?
12. It’ll be fine! I’ll just go back to the feeling smug about not spending all the money. And I won’t have all the stress of trying to get a ticket. I hope I don’t get a code.
13. Didn’t get a code. Want to die now.
14. SO UNFAIR, though. Should have made more people register. Like the postman, and the little boy who cuts people’s grass for £5.
15. OMG, Mum has got a code!
16. We won’t get tickets, though.
17. Which will be for the best, obviously, because I bet they’ll be really expensive. Like, £120, say. Maybe even £150. I can’t afford that!
18. Better just make sure credit card is available. Just as a precaution.
19. Tickets for the first night go on sale at 11am. Not even bothered about it, really.
20. Will log on at 10:40am, though.
21. Will probably get straight through, then have difficult decision to make re: spending the £120.
22. 4,000 people in front of us in queue. Will die if I don’t get tickets.
23. There are no tickets.
25. Wait! There are tickets! They’re… £380. And also £660.
26. I mean, that’s just utterly ridiculous. Total insanity. I’m not paying £380 to stand up at a concert! Am logging out now, like proper, fiscally responsible adult.
27. Really wish I’d just got the £380 ticket. Hate myself.
27. I mean, it’s a whole year away. I could save up. It’s just £31.66 per month. Is bargain!
28. No. I’m not doing it. Because I’m not insane. Also feel like I’m being cynically manipulated by Ticketmaster, really. Well, the joke’s on you, Ticketmaster! I’m not falling for your tricks!
29. Next chance to get tickets is at 1pm. Not even going to bother trying, tbh.
30. Might just have a quick look, though. Purely out of curiosity, you understand. No way am I buying tickets now.
31. Unless they have the £180 ones, obviously.
32. Or the £380 ones.
33. No! Not those ones! Madness!
34. 3,700 people before us in the queue. There’s going to be nothing left again.
35. Except the £380 tickets, again. And the £660 ones.
36. BUY BUY BUY!!!!!!!!!
38. Best day of my life, literally.
39. Most expensive, too.
40. God, I can’t believe I did that.
41. £380 for standing tickets.
42. And, OK, a tote bag.
43. A £200 tote bag.
41. I hate myself.
42. Why am I like this, though?
43. I wonder if I should make friendship bracelets?
If you enjoyed this post, please consider supporting Forever Amber by becoming a subscriber. You’ll get exclusive content direct to your inbox, plus my subscriber-only newsletter, The Awkward Girl’s Guide to the Week, every Friday.