Clash of the Personalities

To put it bluntly – the past few weeks have been nothing but a clusterfuck.  Where some people would brag about having 10 dates in 3 weeks, others would probably tend to find it a bit unhealthy.    I remember stepping off the plane after a weeks vacation in paradise visiting one of my closest childhood friends and saying – “Shelby, its time to focus on yourself.”  It was at that moment that I decided I was going to get event more serious about dieting and not just continue my current workout regimen, but also add Insanity Max 30 in to the mix.  Apparently though, when you throw that out in to the atmosphere – the cosmos have a different plan, and literally I was getting so many date opportunities that I wasn’t going to turn down the chance to potentially meet “the one”…But with lack of screening comes hilariously bad experiences….

My days lately consisted of, waking up, going to work, working out during lunch, coming home, doing insanity, shower, date, sleep and repeat.  I was preparing for date 3 of the week.  It was with a Match.com guy who I had a feeling was going to blow me off, considering we barley spoke and he kept changing his story about exactly what he was looking for, but lately I have been turning over a new leaf and have been wiling to at least give someone a chance if they fit my paper criteria and are attractive.  So naturally, with a Friday date planned, I texted him on Thursday to confirm that we were still on.  In the mean time I had met a different guy on SKOUT (yet another terrible dating app with more bugs than that one scene from Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom.)  He seemed eager to hang out, so I explained to him that if my preexisting plans canceled that I would meet up for dinner with him.  I gave the match.com guy 24 hours to respond to a simple yes or no question: “Are we still on for tomorrow night.”   As I suspected, he ghosted me so I made plans with SKOUT guy to do dinner.  I really didn’t know much about SKOUT guy – aside from very little conversation and a profile picture, but feeling adventitious I decided to meet him anyways. 

When he walked through the door, he wasn’t bad looking at all, so naturally that was an initial plus.  The first thing he commented on was how we both were wearing red shirts and matched.   We both thought it was kind of funny so it helped to break the ice.  When we arrived at the table and got settled, I noticed he had no shame in checking me out as I took off my jacket.  He eyed me up and down and got a pretty big smile on his face, which I caught out of the corner of my eye.  No bullshit, I loved it.  It’s a huge confidence booster to know that someone finds you attractive, especially with the hell that I had been put through in the past few years. 

Instantly though, I noticed that his eye contact kept going from my face to my cleavage, which wasn’t even first date inappropriate.   I don’t like to put the girls out there all the way, just a little bit to make them wanting more, and clearly it was more distracting than anything for him.  After the waiter brought our menu, he then proceeded to make the following statement: “Everyone here knows that we are on our first date, you know how they know?”  Naturally intrigued I asked, “How?” to which his response? “Because we actually look interested in what the other person is saying.”  Remember that confused puppy look that I always refer to?  Talk about role reversal, for it was me that now looked like the confused puppy.  I didn’t really understand 1. Why he would say that and 2. What he meant by it?  I thought to myself, “Are you saying that eventually you don’t care about what the person you are with has to say?”  I paused for a minute and said, “I’m sorry, not really sure what you mean by that,” to which he responded, “That was supposed to be a joke.”  I looked at him and said, “That wasn’t a very funny joke…just saying.”    Being that our drinks hadn’t even arrived yet, I could already tell this was going down a disastrous path.  He then asked me what I did for a living, to which I told him and he got extremely angry for some reason.  “Are you serious? You work there?!”  I worked there for 8 years and just got fired in September for the most ridiculous reason.”  My facial expression now I can only imagine went from confused puppy to “I just witnessed someone get hit by a car”.  He then proceeded to tell me the shadiest story (mind you) of how he was the victim of corporate politics and that one person was out to get him and blah blah blah.  I think I stopped listening after the part where he got up on his soap box preaching about how he did nothing wrong.  Sadly, we hadn’t even ordered our food yet and I already wanted the server to bring the check.

After he stepped off his soap box, I then asked him the most standard question that I tend to ask anyone I go out with, “What brought you to (Insert Site name here).”  Instead of a normal response like, “Just seeing what’s out there” or “Sick of meeting people in bars” I got, “You are really intense you know that?  What damage has been done to you in the past that has made you so intense.”  For the most part, I am a very cool demeanored person, however the thought of choke slamming him on to the table seemed therapeutic at this point.   With slight anger in my voice I proceeded to tell him the experience I had in my previous relationship involving the mental abuse, lack of communication and his profession which contributed a lot to it.    He really didn’t seem too phased by it, and mid way through interrupted me to tell me that I have “very sexy hands.” 

“Excuse me?” I said, to which he said, “I have a thing with hands and feet, and I must say your hands are super sexy.  What size shoe do you wear?” He asked.   I said, “ummm 7.5”.  “Perfect,” he said.   “May I?” he asked, and before I knew it he grabbed my hand and was holding it as if one would if they were going to go kiss the back of it.  As I looked up, I caught his eyes staring at me intensely, moving from my face and then down to my cleavage and back to my face and then he began licking his lips.  This was quite possibly more disturbing than the guy that rubbed my leg under the table.  I wanted to teleport out of there, and the food hadn’t arrived. 

I hastily removed my hand and tried to change the subject, simply because I didn’t have a well thought out exit plan.  We then got on the subject of drinking.  He had pounded 2 margaritas at this point, to which I had my lemon water.  I truly feel like if I would have had any alcohol around this douche I probably would of went to jail for simple assault.    He then outright asked me what kind of drunk I was, to which I replied, “Well I can tend to be wild and crazy at times.”  “How so?” he asked.  I then proceeded to tell him one of my favorite recent drunk stories that involved myself, one of my best friends, a random male, shots of fireball and getting kicked out of the Cambodian Café on the South Side at 1:45am.  This event makes my top 3 most hilariously bad drunk stories list.  He found 0 humor in it….”Well you and I will never be drinking in public together that’s for sure.”  He said.  “In fact, we will only drink at my place, that way if you get out of control I can just kick your ass out.”  Wow…his personality is about as warm as a dead body, and he didn’t stop there…”What are you doing out on the South Side anyway, you are too old to be going out there.”  I would of given anything for a piano to fall from the sky and land on his side of the table at this point….

Finally after what seemed like weeks, the food arrived.  Being that I am on a strict portioned diet, my dinner consisted of a bun less turkey burger with one slice of cheese and an order of sweet potato fries.  Making the best of it, I loaded my burger with ketchup and mustard and naturally set all the garnishes to the side.  “Do you want these veggies? I don’t eat them.”  I asked, trying not to waste food, when I even told the server I wanted my burger plain.”  “You don’t eat vegetables, well that’s weird.”  Thank you asshole, you are the second person now to call me weird for not eating vegetables.  Your vagina whispering skills are on point tonight.  He then says to me, “What are you 12?  Your burger looks like something a child would eat.”  My reply was in true Shelby fashion, “I didn’t see any mac and cheese on the menu or I would of ordered that too.  Would you like me to throw a tantrum now or wait till we are leaving?”  He shut up pretty quickly.  At this point there were 2 pluses to the evening: 1. His mouth was full of food, allowing less time for any type of terrible conversation to come out of it and 2. This meant the date was close to ending.

When the waiter brought the bill I truly wanted to jump out of my seat and run to my car, but he just kept on talking.  Normally when someone says, “I have a confession to make” nothing good has ever came out of it, so naturally when he blindsided me with that anything goes at that point.  He then proceeded to tell me that I must have a thing for a certain type of profession because he was in fact in the same profession as my ex.  Where things kinda were starting to make sense at this point with his arrogance and clear lack of respect, I had that “Oh Shit” moment.  “Why did you lie about that, it is kind of a stupid thing to lie about.”  I said.  “I don’t care what kind of job you have, Its about if our personalities click” (which clearly they didn’t). 

His response made me want to go batshit crazy, “I’m just kidding, I’m not really that profession – I am considering training to be it though, but not there yet.” I’m pretty sure my face was about as red as my shirt with anger.  “Why the fuck would you joke about something like that, do you seriously have something wrong with you?” I asked.  “Sorry I didn’t think you would be that wound up about it,” he said.  All I heard was the mortal combat voice in my head saying, “FINISH HIM, FATALITY.”

I was literally squirming in my seat.  My legs were saying run and my mind was saying, “Remove all sharp objects from the table NOW”  So waiting for the change felt like eternity.  As we waited the Pens game was on, so I asked him, “Do you like sports/hockey/ etc?  “I don’t have time for sports, I’m too interested in cars and Women.”  I thought – well that makes sense – in order to keep any kind of Woman I’m assuming he has to hit them with his car and knock them in to comas….

Finally the change came and he asked where I was going to next.  On a whim I made up a great story about meeting up for friends on the South Side for drinks, knowing he wouldn’t try to invite himself.  I said, “What are you doing?”  His answer was what I expected, “Well my buddy from Florida was in town, so I was thinking you could call some of your single friends and maybe they could show him some “fun”.  I wanted to say, “Fun for me would be pushing you off a cliff,” but instead I said, “Oh so I am a Madame now?  I didn’t realize my purpose was to find your friend vacation vagina.  How about this, I’ll text you when I see who is out and if anyone is single then I will let you know?”  “Ok that works,” he said and I literally ran to my car like a zombie was chasing me.

Naturally I did not contact him that night, or the next day either, but apparently he thought he had nailed the date because he asked me what I was up to on Sat night and was hinting around to maybe getting together, to which I squashed pretty quickly for the entire weekend.  “Sorry got a lot going on,” I responded – to which wasn’t a lie – I truly did have plans…with myself…that I refused to break because I didn’t want to be a dick…to myself.

Sunday afternoon involved a massage and meal prep, which is my kinda day.  I then got yet another last ditch effort text from him fishing to see if I wanted to hang out:

Some people just never learn...

Keeping it real -

Shelby

The Worlds Worst Player

 Lately, thanks to a dear friend of mine who has been teaching me proper diet and exercise, not only am I experiencing weight loss for the first time in 3 years, but also a new found confidence.  I have struggled with both body dismorphia and low self esteem for a very long time. Throw in falling in love with someone who felt the need to rip any sliver of self esteem I had, and all that was left of me was the shell of a person formerly known as Shelby. 

As expected, time really does heal all wounds, and once the mental monster that had defeated me was non existent, my confidence grew back and eventually I grew out of my shell and am (very slowly) growing comfortable in my own skin, but it still didn't solve the problem that I faced in the real world of never getting approached by men that I found attractive. Then all of a sudden, that all changed. 

I had quit online dating cold turkey for a month, with the exception of match, because I stupidly paid for a 6 month subscription. No more Pof, Okc, tinder, anything. The straw that broke the camels back for me was when I had a guy tell me that he didn't think I was as good of a catch as I make myself out to be, and that my profile pictures on Pof looked better than my Facebook ones.  Normally as you know, I would of unloaded on "Joe from Murrysville" but I was mentally exhausted and decided not to fight back. Instead I just blocked him from all things known to man and was satisfied with the vision of castrating him if I ever ran in to him in the real world. It was at this point that I realized it was time for the self proclaimed "Queen of online dating" to give up the throne. 

I was out at a club one night for a friends birthday when the unthinkable happened...I happened to be standing at the bar and struck up a convo with a guy. He was gorgeous, blonde hair, blue eyes, MOST IMPORTANTLY NOT Greek or Italian, and so not my type at all. It was very clear that he took care of himself based off the size of his biceps and the fact that he was tanner than most Pittsburgh men in early March. He was a typical meathead that 100% of the time I would write off because I never felt men like that would be attracted to me.  From the minute that we first started chatting until the club closed we were together. We talked and talked about lots of topics, he hit it off with my friends and the bonus? He was polite, respectful and didn't try to grope or tongue rape me. He grew up near my hometown, we had tons of mutual friends, and it was almost as if our lives had been running parallel to each other, but we were just meeting now. Most importantly, he made me feel like I was the only girl in the club. Even my friend noticed how in to me he was, and was super excited for me. 

There was one moment where I had slight doubts when the birthday girl drunkenly interrogated him.  When she asked if he was going to get my number, he diverted the conversation by saying, "Well we do have a lot of mutual friends."  So naturally I was not only shocked, but exceptionally giddy when he asked me not only for my phone number but out to dinner.   I remember walking out of the club arm and arm with my friend who's hooker heels had gotten the best of her newly healed ankle, and I was on cloud nine.  I couldn't stop smiling and I felt like I was on top of the world, a feeling I hadn't felt in quite some time.  I was even more elated when I got a text from him an hour later checking to make sure I was ok. 

The next day I didn't really know what to expect, considering I am very old school in my way of thinking, but living in a new generation of dating. You see my friends and I had a debate one day as to how much communication is normal when you first meet someone. In my eyes it is a simple equation: girl likes boy, boy likes girl, they talk every day. Apparently I am wrong, and the new norm is to go a couple of days without talking, which leads to domino effect starting with an emotional roller coasters and ending with me being totally disinterested because I don't feel as if the level of interest is equal. So naturally when it was 8pm and I didn't hear from him, I decided to be proactive, break my rules and do something against all of my beliefs...text him first and it landed a successful short conversation. 

The following day I was super excited to receive a text at 7am from him wishing me a good morning. In my eyes, this has potential. We proceeded to text periodically throughout the day, to which we decided that we would go to dinner on Friday. He mentioned he was going to the gym and would text me when he got out..and never did.  I found this to be a bit strange, but didn't panic, I'm sure there was a legitimately good reason as to why he couldn't take 30 seconds to do what he said he was going to do and text back.  I maybe over thinking it, however due to some damage from my past relationship, I carry the baggage of believing that "a mans word is his worth". If you say you are going to do something, do it and if you don't  your word doesn't mean shit to me and I move on. For me, 2 years ago I found myself being told after a huge blowout fight, "I'll call you tomorrow" only to get that call a mere 2 tortuous months later, and to add insult to injury someone who I wanted to spend the rest of my life with (or so I thought)  was shit faced drunk. So for the present me, I get highly turned off and disappointed if a guy doesn't come through. It's like having what I imaging a flash back of a bad acid trip is like. 

To my surprise I heard from him on Tuesday afternoon, and just played it cool. We chatted again and the same thing, I'll text you later - to which he didn't. Ok...one day of doing something Is forgivable, 2 days sends up the international player flag. I wasn't sure what to do at this point, because this behavior is suspicious of any guy that claims to be single. But on Wed when he messaged me back, he said he apologized for falling asleep. It was at this point I asked him about his martial status solely based on hoping he would just tell me the truth. Divorced but no kids or ex drama. I thought, "ok, not ideal but I can work with this". We then discussed what we would do Friday and decided to make final plans Thursday....I did not hear from him Thursday...or Friday..or Saturday or Sunday - he totally ghosted me. 

It was at this point I decided to do some research to see what was really going on...he wasn't very hard to find on Facebook what so ever. Being that easy to find, I wasn't surprised that he had 0 privacy settings, so it allowed me to literally learn about the last 5 years of his life. As I scrolled down, I had noticed a woman who had been all over his profile commenting, posting, and professing his undying love for her and vice versa and learned that they had been engaged. Slightly confused, considering he told my friend at the club that he had been single for a few weeks, and made no mention that he had just got out of a relationship when I asked, so being confused I kept digging. 

I like to think of myself as a low to moderately crazy person. I remember a guy who i considered to be a friend, told me I was crazy for wanting to get married and have children and said I should seek professional help. Well, clearly him and I are no longer friends, but with the Internet and Social Media running our lives anymore, it's truly hard to hide from anyone anymore. Its amazing what you find when you Google yourself, try it, you will either be terrified or entertained.

Like any curious girl who is protective of her heart, I decided to see what I could get from her Facebook profile, so you can most certainly picture my facial expression as I was looking at a posted picture of the two of them, together, that was posted the weekend that he ghosted me.  I had just stumbled not only on to his current fiancées Facebook page, but I had also met the Worlds Worst Player.

Needless to say I was less than excited to hear from him on Monday, now knowing what I knew.  All I kept thinking was, “That poor girl.”  I had to laugh, because even if I wouldn’t of known about his fiancée, the lie that he gave me as to why he ghosted to me was literally the equivalent of a child, standing next to a broken cookie jar claiming not to have dropped it.  “I lost my phone on Thursday and just got a new one today, I looked up your number by going in to my phone bill and the date that we met.”  It took every bone in my body not to say, “Well it’s a good thing your fiancée had her phone then to take pictures of the two of you all weekend”, but I didn’t.  I made the executive decision to see how far I could take this, (without disrespecting his fiancée in any way) and get a blog out of it at best, so I took the bait ran with it, and began stroking his ego accordingly.  Ironically we both had plans to go on vacation in the upcoming week, so we planned to get together before we left, but like clock work, he started setting up his second “lie” around Wed.  On Tuesday, he was so sick that all he did was sleep all day, so naturally my responses where, “Awe poor baby, do you need some soup?” and “Awe I’ll come take care for you,” cringing as I wrote them.  The entire time thinking, “Why don’t you whine to your fiancée, considering she lives with you.”  So naturally by Thursday when he bailed I wasn’t surprised.  I told him to get better and if he wanted to chat while I was away he needed to download a special chat app, to which he just ignored my messages. 

Away I went on my much-needed vacation to paradise with no contact from the outside world for 7 whole days (with the exception of Facebook).  It was magical.    What also too was magical was being told that he was going on a vacation with his “Boys”, only to see a beach picture of him and his fiancée that she made her new profile pic on day one of his “Boys” vacation.  When I had gotten back, he had sent me a bunch of Selfies that he had taken, flexing and showing off his well toned body.  What he didn’t account for however though was a bright orange bra that was laying on top of a packing container that was literally out in the open for all to see…

So naturally my response was replied to with another terrible lie…

The Worlds Worst Player strikes again.  So far we have learned 1. Make sure if you are going to try to be a player, make your Facebook Profile private and 2. If you are going to send selfies to a girl that is not your fiancée, make sure the background shots are free and clear of any women’s clothing.

So after he thought he had redeemed himself with another terrible lie, we continued to text and “flirt”.   A few days later, out of nowhere he starts asking me how I know certain people, leading me to believe that he was checking out my FB profile, which is private aside from my profile pictures and any mutual friends that we may have. Unfortunately due to peoples poor etiquette and lack of normalcy, I had to set my friend settings to private because people who thought my friends were hot, took the liberty to friend them, creeping them out.    Naturally,  I called him out and said, “Are you stalking my Facebook?” to which he made up some story about how he knows a girl that went to school with me and he asked her to pull up my page because he didn’t have a Facebook page.  I literally was in tears when I responded to it with a screen capture of his Facebook page (blurred for privacy reasons obviously)…

What blew my mind was that the girl that he was speaking to that knew me, is also friends with his Fiancée on Facebook, so I can only imagine what terrible story he made up in regards to knowing me.  Clearly not only is he not good at this, the word discreet is also not in his vocabulary.  Unfortunately though, he still hasn’t really crossed any kind of moral line, aside from flirting with another girl, who is not his fiancée.  This is what my friends coined as the term, “Pre Cheating”.

I decided it was time to call him out once and for all.  I was having way to much fun calling out his lies.  It had literally became a daily hobby, so I encouraged and antagonized a meeting for that next week, at the club where it all started.  Like any highly organized person, I followed up multiple times with him to make sure that he was going to show up, considering he had chickened out the first 2 times.  As expected as the week ramped up for the meet, the conversation turned more sexual and he had convinced himself that he was going to go home with me on Friday night.  I thought it was hilarious that he thought that after literally everything that had happened, he still thought he had a chance.  Granted, there are females out there that are that desperate that they probably would of fell for all of this, but I take pride in knowing that I am much much, much more smarter than them. 

The night was upon us, and I made sure that I looked like a 15 on a scale of 10.  With the help of my 2 closest female friends, I was able to put together an outfit that was just plain hot.  So when I arrived at the club,  I felt like a million bucks and was ready for whatever craziness was about to go down, and then I spotted him about 15 min after I arrived standing at the corner of the bar, so I made my way over…Game on

For someone who was sending some crazy sexual text messages, he was very quiet and reserved, almost as if he was a different person.  He introduced me to his friend, who I learned they were gym buddies and he proceeded to buy me a drink.  It was super awkward at this point and his friend wasn’t helping.  I don’t think the World’s Worst Player set up a good back story as to who I was, because not only did his friend know his fiancée (considering they all go to the same gym), but his friend kept asking him questions like, “What are YOUR guy’s weekend plans” and “Are you two doing this?”  It was at that point, that I realized there was a back story that had been developed. I was in fact a girl chasing him, not the other way around…maybe he wasn’t as stupid as I thought, but like clock work he did something super dumb that put him right back in to the idiot category.

He had just bought a new house.  A single man who claims to live in a town house alone, just bought a gigantic house.  As he was proudly showing a picture of it to his friend and then me, I guess he forgot that the picture not only included the gigantic house, but also a silhouette of what appeared to be his fiancée proudly standing on the front porch with a huge smile on her face.  I literally had issues keeping my composure; I had to turn my back because I was laughing uncontrollably at his stupidity.  As he continued to give me the cold shoulder in front of his friend and a warm shoulder when his friends back was turned, I had so many chances to call him out on so many things, but I was enjoying the free drinks, wasn't drunk enough and wasn’t ready to go home just yet, so I played along. 

Multiple times he kept asking me when my friends were going to show up (In front of his friend naturally), so finally when someone actually did show up, and wanted to hit the dance floor, I was all for it.  After a few songs and multiple vodka cranberries, I left the dance floor to go find him so that I could confront him with my liquid courage, and he was nowhere to be found.   And this started the beginning of the end….

     

Side note:  His fiancee is not a realtor, however she is in the business per say.  So attention all Real Estate Agents reading this- If your clients are not taking you, their inspectors, mortgage officers and closing officers on beach vacations, then clearly you are being slighted....

Moving on.....

And here ends the story of the World's Worst Player.  I'm sure that most of you are asking yourselves - Why didn't you just contact her directly?  Well for starters - I have been her.  I remember in college my best friend at the time told me my boyfriend was cheating on me with a girl I knew, and like an idiot I didn't believe my own friends and stayed with him.  Another reason?  I have finally gotten my life to the point where there is little to no drama, running to an unsuspecting female coming at her with all of this information wouldn't make me a saint, it would make me a drama queen.  Granted I will forever keep the conversation saved in my phone, in the event that it comes full circle - but at the end of the day he didn't psychically cheat - he just flirted, asked other women out and said sexually inappropriate things that someone who is engaged shouldn't say to another person who is not said fiancee.  Granted, morally is this wrong? - absolutely, but me walking away with not only my dignity and having nothing but the utmost respect for a female that I didn't offically know, was more important to me.  I hope if anything, me knowing too much about the situation scared him straight - and I wish her all the luck in the world and hopefully earned a few karma points in the process!

Keepin it real -
Shelby

A Letter to Ticketmaster

Below you will find a letter that I had written to the wonderful people about my experience with Ticketmaster - Woof

To Whom It May Concern –

I would like to express my total dissatisfaction with my entire ticketmaster.com experience.  Aside from painful things such as childbirth and the breaking of a bone (which I have experienced neither FYI) I pretty much compare my experience to the equivalent of  what I imagine what both of those scenarios would produce as far as pain levels are concerned. 

           

You see, I had 1 question – that could of easily been provided with the purchase of my VIP ticket confirmation, however obtaining the answer that I had to my one simple question, was about as difficult as what I imaging the ongoing quest to find the Arc of the Covenent, the Holy Grail or even the Tomb of Nefertiti’s grave has been.   

You see, it started when I turned to the all-knowing internet and went on your website to try to obtain a phone number to reach out for contact.  Yes – a phone number, not an email address that even though my question was simple enough not to be misinterpreted, I felt that talking to a human being – rather than waiting for an answer to my simple question that literally would take 5 seconds to figure out would be much quicker an a streamlined process.  Boy was I mistaken.

I called the Ticketmaster Toll Free number that was provided on the website at 5:35pm on February 18^th.  The first time I called, the line was busy – so naturally I had figured one of two scenarios – 1. I had unintentionally dialed the incorrect number due to a short attention span and a mild case of number confusion. (Numbers anger me, there are just too many of them) or 2.  There may have been a high volume of calls due to the 20^th snow storm that has hit the east coast in the past 10 days.  I continued to dial the number multiple times for 10 minutes with the hopes that I would get through (I guess that is just the Italian stubbornness in me) and not hear what may quite possibly may be the worlds most annoying phone sound on the planet.  The “busy” signal tone is a sound that basically mocks you upon hearing it.  It’s like that bully in 4^th grade that taunted you because you wore glasses, or the smack in the face you get when you are starving and all you want to do is order a pizza, but you can’t get ahold of anyone.  So naturally – with each monotone beep I received every time I redialed the number, the angrier I got.  

Finally, in my frustration, I realized that there is always a corporate number somewhere, so again I scoured the internet searching for it – with the hopes that I could get the answer to my question that I needed, again from a human being.  That’s when I happened to obtain the number to the corporate offices in Beverly Hills, CA.    Upon calling, I yet again got a busy signal, and after what may have been the “headsmack” heard around the world, I continued to call until I actually got a real live human!  Just when I thought I saw hope, I was then directed to a different phone number in Virginia that the gentleman assured me that I would be able to get an answer to my one simple question.

When I dialed the number, I had that feeling you get when you go out on a date with someone that you really like – a little nervous but excited that this may be the “one” – and when I got the tone of a phone actually ringing, I literally wanted to put a ring on it.  But that hope dwindled very shortly when it continued to ring and ring and ring and I got no answer.    I know what you are thinking…I sound bi polar and you are probably thinking, “No wonder this girl is single in her 30s, she is never satisfied with anything.”  Where you maybe partially right, I really didn’t expect to go on an emotional roller coaster with Ticketmaster that involved feeling both rejected (busy signal) and then ignored (constant ringing).  If I wanted to feel those emotions again – I would just get back together with my ex-boyfriend or every first date and last date I’ve been on since 2013. 

Then we made some progress – I didn’t get a human, but I got the next best thing – the opportunity to leave a voicemail.  I considered this a win for “Team Question” considering it was the most progress I had gotten in the 45 minutes that I had started the “Quest for a Damn Answer”, so I left a message with the hopes that this was yet not another dead end (similar to my love life).  I didn’t expect to get an answer that evening, considering it was after standard business hours – so I heald out hope that maybe, just maybe I would get the answer to my question, and I went to bed feeling positive.

When I woke up, I was feeling pretty lucky, so I decided to give another try with the 1800 number provided on the website.  I probably should of played the lottery that day – because I was able to get the automated system.  So after I plugged in my numbers and got directed to the appropriate department – I was put on hold for 5 painful minutes.  Within those 5 painful minutes – I listened to the worst on-hold music I have heard in my life.  Its bad enough U2 was forced upon my Iphone without my permission – but now I am feeling even more violated because now I’m feeling that like the Government – U2 is EVERYWHERE.  I can’t hang up because I already have an investment in this call – but I don’t want my ears to bleed.  So as I heard the pennies of the undeserved royalties being added to U2’s bank account as I had to sit through the 1 minute song excerpt – I finally got a hold of a human after 7 minutes.  After giving my account information and getting through the entire “getting to know you” process with my rep, he then informed me that since this was a VIP Package – that I had to call the VIP toll free number to get an answer to my question. 

So let me get this straight – now, not only do I not have the answer to a very simple question that should have probably been printed or sent with my ticket – but now I have to call an entirely different division of the company – that the phone number was also not provided for me at the time of my VIP purchase.  I can deal with losing 7 minutes of my life – even if 3 of it was listening to U2.  What I cannot deal with is the 32 minutes that I was on hold with the “VIP” line.

The last I checked VIP meant “Very Important Person”.  Yes, I may have not dropped thousands and thousands of dollars on a meet and great, but it’s the principal of the fact.  I would of felt more important wiping my ass with a $100 bill, flushing it down the toilet, and then going through this process.  I’m not trying to tell you how to run your company by any means – but lets think of something logical here.  If you are given something to build, you are provided a set of directions.  Now mind you, most men will ignore the directions and build it how they think it should be built while women sit on the side lines and bitch that the man is doing it wrong, but the point is – there was information available to go on the right path.   Call me illogical because I am female, call me crazy – but wouldn’t it make sense to provide me with the VIP phone number if I am purchasing a VIP package?  I know…this sounds about as crazy as things like flying cars, robot butlers and the the ability to fly without an airplane, but wouldn’t it make sense? 

So after being on hold for 32 minutes and a different set of U2-less on hold music, it was equally as annoying to listen to the automated voice tell me that I should either call back or email you, due to a high volume of calls (again probably why I’m single, never satisfied).  Now I really feel that Ticketmaster is making me feel less of a “Very Important Person” and turning in to in my mind a “Very Inadequate Place” or if you really want to know what I’m thinking at this point, “Very Incompetent Prick” (the entire experience, not the people or anyone in particular).  So finally, after waiting on hold for the same amount of time that a Family Guy episode runs, I was done listening to the On-Hold voice instruct me for probably the 75^th time to either email you or hang up and call back later.  I was greeted by a very nice woman named Ranisha.  She proceeded to ask me the general questions needed to bring my account, and finally after asking my very simple question, she informed me that the VIP Ticket hotline could not in fact help me and that I needed to be redirected to the phone number that I had called previously, because it was a local event and since it wasn’t a national event they couldn’t help me.  I literally wanted to scream, however trying to be polite and not wanting to strangle the messenger, I kept my composure as she transferred me not only back to the number I had originally called probably 15 times in less than 12 hours, but also back to the land of forced U2 music excerpts.  I was less than excited.  Another 14 minutes went by that I was on hold again – tallying up to 48 minutes of my life that I can no longer get back on account of being on hold.  I then got ahold of Maggie.  Again asking me for my account info, I shuttered at the thought of asking Maggie the one question that I had, because at this point – I wouldn’t of been surprised if I would of gotten redirected to China, Indonesia or India.  Finally, after 48 painful minutes of being redirected through out your company, I finally got the answer to my question.  I’m sure after reading this you are wondering to yourself, “What was her question?”

The question that I was seeking an answer to – which caused me a painful 12 hour process, 48 minutes on hold and still as of the end of the business no phone call back from the voicemail that I left all I wanted to know was “What time does the VIP meet and greet start?”

I truly am going to cringe the next time I am forced to use your services, only because god forbid if I have a question about anything I need to block out an entire hour to get an answer.  Please re-evaluate your ticketing system and streamline information to customers.  If someone buys a VIP meet and greet pass – print the start time on the ticket, and perhaps share the VIP phone number with them.  If the time of the Meet and Greet is unavailable at the time of purchase – send out a courtesy email.  Simple solutions that can prevent headaches like what I had to go through.  I’m not telling you how to run your company, all I am asking is that you please 1. Remove all things U2 from your on-hold music – I mean come on, isn’t this like beating a dead horse already?  And 2. Make the “VIP” process, which in lieu of making me feel special – it actually made me feel like a redheaded bastard stepchild (no offence to the person reading this if you are in fact a bastard redheaded stepchild, I’m sure you were loved equally) more “VIP” like.  If I’m paying not only admission to the show, whatever cut you take, and then an additional processing fee- I feel as if I should be getting some additional service here.  I’m not saying I want a mariachi band greeting me at the door, or a parade down main street in my honor, but a 0 wait time policy or direct line to someone would at least be a good start?  Print the start time on the ticket?  Or email me when you know?  

Thank You For Listening