How I (didn't) get tickets for Glastonbury 2011
Having picked
Sam to act as my proxy, I had to explain to her exactly what was required in
order to get Glasto tickets on the day they were released. This was difficult
to do without edging into hysteria. I didn’t want to appear too pushy or to put
too much pressure on her; but, on the other hand, I had to stress that it
wouldn’t be just a case of picking up a phone or logging on at some arbitrary
point some time on the Sunday morning in question. It was a case of getting the
balance right. I also had to tactfully suggest that it would be good if she was
ready to roll on the dot of 9.00 a.m. i.e. fully awake and not hung over from
Saturday night! I knew that I was asking a lot (and expecting a bit of a
miracle anyway), but I was sure that if anyone could come up with the goods in
my absence, then Sam was the one. So with every confidence in her and having
reassured her that if it didn’t work out, then I know she would have tried her
hardest, I armed her with all the practical details. I planned this like a
quasi-military campaign. I had typed a sheet of instructions-phone numbers,
URLs, registration numbers etc. Tips about opening as many browsers as possible
on as many devices as were available and hitting redial on the phones over and
over again. I think that I even laminated the typed sheet that I gave to her.
Everything was in place. It was simply a question of waiting until that fateful
Sunday and hoping that she would strike gold. There was nothing more that I
could do. I went off on our holiday to Florida, knowing that when we came back Sam
would have been in touch to tell us that Operation Gettickets had been a
resounding success and that it was all down a combination of my meticulous planning,
her sterling efforts and the gods looking down kindly on me. I just knew that on
that long flight back across the Atlantic, I would be whiling away the hours by
planning in my head what I would be doing that following June in Somerset.
So that Sunday was
exactly half way through our Florida trip. I’d been sort of putting it all to
the back of my mind during the first week, trying not to tempt fate and just
getting into the holiday mode. It had been a great holiday so far but on the Saturday
night, I did go to sleep thinking what the next day would bring. We were
planning to go on a bit of journey on the Sunday, so it was an early night for
all. I drifted off with visions of pitching our tent in the sun.
Bearing in mind
the time difference between the U.K. and the U.S., (5 hours behind the U.K), I
knew that when we got up, then good news would be in the offing. Not being very
good with mobiles/texting in any way, shape or form, I was reliant upon Sam
texting Jackie with the update. At 6.00 a.m. U.S. time Jackie got a text that
Sam had sent at 9.30 a.m U.K. to say that she was on and trying but with no
success so far. No worries-there was still time. I got up, made a coffee and
paced up and down with a ciggie, like an expectant father. Next text- Sam had still
had no luck but was still trying. She kept updating us and I knew that the next
text would be “Yes!”. But at 7.15 a.m. a text arrived- “Oh I’m so very sorry,
no luck, it’s all sold out”. When Jackie told me this I honestly thought she
was joking in that sort of “I didn’t get the job/pass the exam” crestfallen-face
but “No, I did actually!” way. She wasn’t joking at all-it’s not the kind of
thing you joke about. And whilst I was eternally grateful for Sam and knew that
she had given it her all-that was it -no Glasto in 2011.
And yet..
You can still get "Turn Left at the Womble" here-the story of how I went to Glastonbury in 2010 for the very first time
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