You should give up ever seeing ‘Hamilton.’
The smash Broadway musical Hamilton may be coming to your city next year — but you might as well give up your dreams now of scoring a ticket. You’re one of at least 100,000 people nearby with exactly the same idea at exactly the same time.
We’re not saying you shouldn’t try — just that you abandon all hope, ye who enter the online ticket-buying portal.
Tickets for the ridiculously popular show went on sale to the general public Monday for the tour in San Francisco and the morning quickly turned into a rerun of the week prior — when a limited number of seats were sold to American Express cardholders, putting would-be theater-goers into digital-purchase purgatory.
For that limited number of seats, something like 80,000 people tried to get seats for the show that’s running March 10 through August 5. This time round, tens of thousands of hopefuls called in, slept overnight at the box office, and waited for hours on end in a digital inferno of a system on the theater website.
Sure, plenty of lucky-as-hell folks scored tickets to the hottest show in a decade. But for everyone else, here are all the reasons trying to get in the door totally sucked.
Watching everyone in front of you celebrate
After getting your mom and three friends and all your browsers ready for the line to "open" at 10 a.m., you’re thinking there’s a tiny sliver of a chance you’ll be seeing the play everyone is obsessed with, from POTUS to Mike Pence. Not a big chance — but
Then, of course, you find out you’re number 15,739 in the randomized online queue on the theater’s website. (And that’s a great number — you could be 112,365.) So you wait. And you watch as the hours tick by and everyone in front of you celebrates publicly after snagging a spot.
You pass the time trying to ignore the stupid, stupid joy of people who somehow got tickets in this messed up online hellhole of a system. But you can’t. You now know true agony.
Not playing the game right
Somehow everyone but you realized the best way to try to get a good spot in line was by using every computer, every browser and all the smartphones and probably every Apple Watch too. You’ve already failed, you’re already at a disadvantage and you haven’t even begun. Everything is meaningless.
Realizing how not alone you are
Sure, misery loves company. But it doesn’t make your place in line move any faster and it makes this more like The Hunger Games than anything else.
Being a bad person
You begin to hate those idiots in front of you. Then you remember all the people in line behind you who have it way worse than you. Which makes you feel better about your lot in life. Then you realize what a terrible person you are for relishing the misfortune of others. Everything is officially awful.
Oh, yea, and ticket prices are astronomical
Here’s the kicker: Once you finally, eventually get into the site after four hours of planning your attack and generally wasting your life, you discover every seat that’s left starts at about $500 per person. Yes, that includes a 2 p.m. curtain on a Wednesday. The show runs 2 hours and 45 minutes, not including intermission. That’s $3 per minute.
This is the ultimate cruelty and your horrible prize for spending half a perfectly good work day thinking about this. So you bargain with yourself over how many meals you could skip to make it worth it. (If your credit limit, and your tolerance for financial pain, is even high enough to accommodate thousands of dollars’ worth of theater tickets. Which it’s not.)
You didn’t want to see this dumb show anyway, you say, feeling even worse for lying to yourself.
And even more on StubHub
Folks who just bought $3,000 worth of tickets are already turning right around to resell them for profit. This officially makes this process the absolute worst.
Just give up. Everything is unfair. Life is pain. You are never seeing Hamilton.