We took on an ultimate challenge this morning trying to get through to ticket services, any ticketing service, to purchase Taylor Swift passes. As expected, it was a bust. 

… ok it’s been about 20 minutes since we began trying. It’s getting pretty ridiculous at this point. Our frustrations are high and the caffeine kick isn’t meshing well with the over-flow of stumped adrenaline. We’re not going to get through to any being, living or otherwise, to purchase Taylor Swift tickets. It’s just not going to happen; we give in.

But who are we kidding. Or bank account reads $0.53 at the moment and even if the site/teller had been able to run our card through, it would have knocked it negative, thus pissing us off even more. We weren’t actually trying to buy Taylor Swift tickets; we just wanted to see if we could get through. To us it’s akin to that string through the nose trick. It isn’t going to get you any more friends, in fact it may cause you to lose some, but challenging things just have to be done on principle. They build character.

Here’s how our trials and tribulations for the last half-hour unfolded.

We began the moronic adventure with a taylor-swift kick to our own ass realizing this makes absolutely no sense. We figured our readers are going to vilify us around their apathetic friends, asserting we’ve gone downhill with our ideas and are trying to be exactly like VICE, only with less bigotry.

Fair enough, but it’s Friday – were you expecting a handwritten tome chronicling a profound, life-altering account of emotional incident?

This was obviously a stupid venture. Tickets to the Taylor Swift tour are probably one of, if not the, most anticipated entries of the season. Not this season of course, because the shows aren’t until Sept 5 & 6 of 2015. The conveniently placed holy grails were going to be untouchable by most. We’re sure a Nov 21 selling date has nothing to do with the holidays. Right.

So we challenged ourselves to see if getting through to purchase said tickets could be done. It was a valiant effort, but like a roadside sobriety test that one time, we failed. Kaput. It was worth a shot.

For the first ten minutes we couldn’t refresh our pages fast enough to try and get through to Altitude’s Ticketing Services. What we continued to get was a “Service Unavailable” page. “We couldn’t be the only ones,” we mused. “There had to be others just like us.”

Which is presumably true. There are probably thousands of parents wandering online– even right now – desperately trying to purchase tickets, because an ostentatious guilt present could possibly make up for years of inattentive parenting.

So we called. Eight times. Each time an automated machine directed us to “Press 1.” We did so with a donut-greased imprint and waited for response. We got nothing aside from the squelch of a busy tone. A busy tone? When was the last time you’ve felt the crushing defeat of a busy tone? It immediately brought back memories of Jessica in the 5th grade. We tried calling, but it was busy. Was she chatting with Thomas, that wiry little fuck from Mr. Pedersen’s class? I had to know. Fuck Thomas and that douchey BMX tank top he always wore. This is madness. Pepsi Center, arrrrrgh!

So there we sat, sulking in our chairs, trying to get through to tickets we couldn’t afford and never even wanted. We questioned reality, but most of all we questioned our own lives. What had we done? We’ve just ruined a perfectly good Friday morning with Swift-fawning nonsense.

Luckily for us, the boss keeps a kegerator in the break room. Luckily for us, nobody judges if we dabble in the brew before noon. And luckily for us, we now have Sept 5 & 6 wide open. There’s always paying double via Craigslist, we suppose.