It’s Tuesday afternoon. 5:15 pm to be exact, and I’ve just been let out of my theater 100 class in which I had to present the monologue I half-assed the night before. What is a monologue, you ask? I really couldn’t tell you. My experience with ~The Theatre~ extends to my role as an Oompa Loompa in my middle school’s production of Charlie and the Chocolate Factory circa 2012.
Not to go into too much on a tangent, but I was tired, embarrassed, and frankly, questioning every decision I had made in my college career thus far that lead me to enroll in an acting class. Add in the fact that the only two things I had consumed that day were a Kaldi’s cappuccino and a slice of pumpkin bread, and the only thing I can think about is a microwavable Kraft’s Mac & cheese and my bed.
So when my friend asked me to stay after class to buy music midtown tickets, I was not happy to oblige. It’s not like I don’t enjoy music, but for 200 dollars, I’d rather close my eyes and play Spotify on repeat than stand in the burning hot sun trying to peek over the shoulders of sweaty, moving bodies.
But I obliged. Not only because I’m a good friend, but because not waiting meant I had to walk home alone and try not to make uncomfortable eye contact with drivers as I’m wheezing along crosswalks.
So we sit down on a bench outside our classroom, and my friend frantically whips out her discount, eager to purchase a ticket with a generous student discount of a whole $10. She pulls up the music midtown site, signs in, and is pawing around her wallet for a credit card while I try to decide if I want to join her in purchasing tickets. Then I notice something strange. The student discounted tickets aren’t listed for $200 or even $100, but $0. As in free. Free 2-day passes to see Billie Eilish, Lizzo, and a lineup of amazing artists. The girl that was vehemently refusing to step foot inside the festival was now screaming and jumping up and down because free tickets to just about anything is every college student’s dream. We end up purchasing the tickets for a whopping $12 (the price of shipping), and post about the glitch on social media so our friends could get tickets too. After about 10 minutes, the free tickets are completely removed from the website before anyone else had the chance to buy one.
4 beautiful days pass with us floating on cloud 9 because of our insane sliver of luck that allowed us to become the talk of our friend group. But then that email comes, that dreaded, evil email from Music Midtown saying our tickets have been voided and we will be refunded our whole $12.
So I’ll be sitting at home this weekend, resenting the music festival I didn’t even want to go to in the first place, just because I almost got to go for free.