A Warped Society
The thing I love most about capitalist societies is the ability of people to create such an arsenal of techniques for screwing others over, financially. I went to the Warped Tour in Minneapolis last month. (For those who don’t know what that is, it’s a huge punk concert that tours all over the US during the Summer, where about 40 bands - some popular, and some relatively unknown - play on various stages. It’s a really good time, if you’re into punk music at all.) Throughout the day, my friends and I learned how to sucker people out of their money, if we ever host such an event ourselves. Now, don’t get me wrong, I had an incredible time that day. I’m just slightly bitter about the hole that was burned in my pocket.
I had pre-ordered my ticket from the Warped Tour website, and had got it fairly cheaply - I think my ticket cost $25. And considering how much I love some of the bands that played, that’s not a bad price at all. The two guys I went with had waited to buy their tickets until the morning-of however, and bought them from Ticketmaster for about $40. When we got to the Tour, they were selling tickets at the gate for $32. Granted, this isn’t an example of the Warped Tour organizers screwing people over - I’ll get to those soon enough - but it was hilarious for me to see my friends’ reactions.
At the gate, after handing over our ticket stubs, we were literally patted down. Apparently not a drop of moisture nor a crumb of food not already inside your body was allowed to be taken inside. “No problem,” we thought, “they’ll have food and drink galore inside!”
Well, we weren’t wrong. There was an abundance of food and drink beyond the gates. However, it didn’t look very inexpensive. Being frugal college students, we decided to hold off as long as possible before going to the “food tickets” booths. We arrived at one o’clock and made it till about four before we were seeing oases. The fact that the event was in the parking lot of the Metrodome on a cloudless day didn’t much help. We saw at the drink stands that bottles of soda and Powerade cost seven tickets, and water cost six. Thanks, that doesn’t mean shit to us. How much are tickets? My friend, Joe, and I went to the ticket booth to inquire.
“It’s 50 cents per,” said the gentleman standing in his cool, well-shaded tent with mist-blowing fans. “But we sell them in sheets of ten. Five bucks.” Yes, they opted to sell only sheets of tickets, but what’s worse is that they were sheets of ten, where drinks cost six and seven tickets. If you want to use all of your tickets, you have to buy at least two sheets. ("Two cokes and a water, please.") They’re geniuses, I thought to myself. Joe asked for two sheets and I for one. As we were walking away, wallets lighter, Joe waved the two fives he’d got for change in my face. “I paid with a ten. The guy must’ve thought it was a twenty.” Thank God for blind old men. Lucky Joe didn’t get screwed out of $10 for a couple drinks, but I still had to pay $5 for a 16oz. water and four slips of paper.
Want to know where they really get you, though? When you get your bottled beverages, they unscrew the caps and keep them. That’s right, if you don’t down your drink within ten seconds of getting it, it’ll evaporate if it hasn’t already been spilled by a mob of preteen girls running to the nearest stage-with-hot-lead-singer. Or the mob of preteen boys following their respective girlfriends.
Anyway, after drinking our expensive drinks, we decided it would be wise to not buy anything more until we got outside the gates once more. At one point we went to the gates and asked if we could leave and re-enter by showing our ticket stubs, but of course that wasn’t allowed. What were we thinking? Thankfully, when we went into the open corridor of the Metrodome to use the bathrooms, we noticed that the water fountains hadn’t been uprooted or blocked up for the event, so we drank our fill in this place that was far removed from all band performances. If we’d been smarter, we’d’ve kept our un-capped bottles and refilled them. But we weren’t smarter, so we didn’t.
We watched a few more performances (my favorite bands were at the end of the day) and left, heading straight for Subway, where I was able to get a delicious 12” turkey-and-ham sub and a large raspberry iced tea with unlimited refills for only a little more than what I paid for a small bottle of water at the Warped Tour.
So, a summary of how to screw over patrons of a musical event: Don’t let anyone bring any food or drink in, and don’t let them leave and come back, so that they have to buy refreshments from you. Host the event on a hot, sunny day, so that they have to buy more refreshments than they should from you. Only allow refreshments to be purchased with an obscure number of expensive tickets, and only sell said expensive tickets in a large, yet non-obscure, number. When selling drinks, unscrew caps and keep them, to keep people from savoring said drinks. And above all else, keep the main event far from any water fountains, and definitely do not advertise their presence.
Pat yourself on the back, Billionaire!
