Oh my God, I have to talk about this.
So I ditched the NCAA softball regional game Sunday afternoon early (Minnesota fell behind Auburn and I thought, well, they're screwed; they actually came back before falling to the Tigers in extra innings; that forced a winner-take-all second game that evening, and even though the Gophers fell behind in that game, Freshman Infielder [and One Of Us, although she's from Rochester] Sam Macken launched a three-run homer to right-center field in the sixth that proved to be the game-winner; the Gophers go to their first-ever Super Regional with an 8-6 victory ... and they may have found a new fan of the sport in me) to attend the Lynx home-opener and hopefully get in in time to see them unfurl their championship banner. I say hopefully because I decided to not use my AAA discount to get tickets, instead thinking I could get them cheaper on the street, assuming that it would not be sold out.
I get there around 3:30. The game's at 4, but the ceremony starts at 3:30, but I decide to play the field, see what happens. So I make my customary loop on both sides of First Avenue, from the Target Center side to the Block E side. And since I would rather try and wait these scalpers out than go in to see the ceremony (which will be late, by the way), I take this loop a few times.
Let me say this: Although they deal with an unregulated, even "shady" side of business, second-hand ticket buying and selling, I think most of these guys aren't assholes. I know one guy who I see a lot at the Xcel Energy Center and around the U. whom I buy tickets from almost exclusively, even if I don't think I'm getting a good deal; I like the guy, and even though I want to get in at a good price, I'll admit that haggling isn't something I'm good at. On the other hand, the only really bad interactions with scalpers have come from two dickheads, ironically both at the same event, which I think was an NCAA hockey tournament game at Mariucci Arena. One guy in a bike told me to fuck off. Whatever, Puck from The Real World.
So I make another loop and this black dude with a white shirt and baggy jean shorts and a backwards blue cap on is thrusting out Lynx tickets to cars on First Ave. and passers-by. (By the way, scalping was made legal here about a decade ago.) Without breaking stride I thrust out my index finger, which is the scalper's universal language for, "Need one."
"I got one for ya."
"How much?"
"30."
"No. Too expensive. 10, maybe 15."
And then he launches guy decides to stick his head up his ass and have a problem with my offer. "Hey, tell me something," this asshole asks me while I'm slowly walking away from him. "Can you go into the box office and get a ticket for $15?"
Well, I didn't know what to say. But I did know that this guy was going to be an asshole. It's times like these where I always know the right comeback after I think about it, or sometimes when I sleep on it. But at that moment I didn't know what to say. Should I be honest? Should I be a smartass like he is?
But I froze. In the meantime this slapdick scalper has a point he's trying to make, so he repeats himself: "Can you go into the box office and get a ticket for $15?"
I needed to get away from this fuck. So, my slow mind could only think of one response, the truth: "Uh, I don't know."
"NO YOU CAN'T. SO WHY SHOULD I GIVE YOU THIS TICKET FOR LESS THAN TWENTY BUCKS?!" and he walks away, disgusted. No, the disgust's all with me, pally.
You know, now that I think about it, I should've just walked away with a shrug. Or, I should have answered with, "Because you got those tickets for five bucks!!" Or I should have walked back to him and gotten off on my own rant: "I'm just trying to get into the game, and you think you can give me a lesson in economics?! Well, thanks for the free education, professor! I didn't know you were better than me ... wait, you're not, YOU FUCKING SCALP TICKETS ON A STREET CORNER!!!"
Seriously, where does he get off telling me how the business is supposed to work?? Fucking Christ, we choose to dance in the shithole of exchanging money for sports tickets in what is the most unseemly forums of monetary transactions this side of prostitution. And he gets bent out of shape because I throw out a number??? Fuck this fucking douche, sheesh.
Anyway, I did finally get in for twenty dollars, a little more than I wanted to spend, but at least I didn't give my money to that piece of shit. I gave it instead to a guy I just ran into. I think he just bought the ticket from someone who was going to the game. If I hadn't run into him, I would have gone back to this particular corner and offered him $20 to split up his pair. Unlike him, he was just minding his own business and trying to make some money. I like guys like him, the quiet type. Hopefully that guy doesn't feel too burned about me approaching him and deciding to give money to a guy I just met instead. Oh, well, he probably didn't want to split up the pair anyway.
And besides, I saw one hell of a game. The Lynx were down by as many as 16 against Connecticut, but somehow they battled back, and Seimone Augustus tied the game on a jumper. And in overtime, Lindsay Whalen carried the team on her back as she fearlessly went to the paint time and time again. Eventually, they outlasted the Sun in OT, 90-87. At least I got my money's worth.
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