The year was 2009. You heard that Pavement were reuniting. You either love them or have been told by people older than you that you should love them. They announced a show in Central Park, for a year later. Like, a whole year later. It sold out. They announced another. And then another. And then another. And then, finally, a fifth show at the Williamsburg Waterfront that would actually take place before all the other ones, which was, if we can be real for a second, a dick move. (OSA says that one didn’t quite sell out, if that’s any consolation.) You probably bought tickets for one of these, probably somewhere in the middle. Perhaps now, a year later, you’d like to sell them, for what you paid for them, or perhaps even a little more. This is not going to happen.
Buyer’s market out there, folks. If you were ever inclined to pity ticket brokers, now would be the time: ow ow ow. Craiglist right now is the saddest place on earth. And it’s not like everyone hates Pavement all the sudden; the show itself is pretty great. But anyone who regarded this as an economic opportunity is now pretty much in ruin.
Doesn’t take a genius to figure out why, of course. Too many shows here, too much of a difference perhaps between You In 2009 and You In 2010. Then there’s the fact that Pavement played, oh, you know, a few other shows, in a few other places, first. Jesus. Scroll through this for a second, and recall that none of that existed when you first reached for your credit card. “While I wasn’t exactly tempted, I do remember being happy as hell that I didn’t buy when I saw them adding more and more shows,” says one guy who’s been ticket-brokering more or less full time for the last several years. “I’m guessing that the true professional resellers saw this in advance and started unloading early. They didn’t make money but they didn’t lose as much per ticket as folks trying to sell them last minute.”
Of course, that doesn’t mean much to you, or this guy, or this one, or this one. (Perhaps you’d like a candy bar?) And so, for those well-meaning ticketholders out there desperate to get even half your money back, take the advice of a semi-pro ticket-broker, for whom eating the occasional ticket is an occupational hazard. “My advice for someone holding Pavement tickets for any of the Central Park shows is to go to the show,” he says. “It’s still Pavement, it’s still New York, and it’s still Central Park, and this probably isn’t going to happen again. And if you have more tickets than you can use yourself, give them to a friend or a co-worker or the teenager down the hall who can’t get into the Bowery or Terminal 5 or the Mercury Lounge but who could stand to listen to better music. You can feel good about yourself thinking you’re a generous person and all, and it’ll save you the imminent frustration of trying to wade in with the hundred other Craigslist sellers when best-case scenario is wheeling and dealing in order to get $30 for tickets that cost you $50. It’s a bad taste.”
So there you have it: Suck it up and go hear “Cut Your Hair” live. Or give the most musically inept people you know the same thrill. Oh, and: Don’t ever do this again.