Last year, I had four tickets to a Reds/Yankees game (high demand) but I couldn’t go to the game, so when I was at a game a few days before that Yankees game, I tried the tough suburban task of interacting with the local scalpers who were hanging a block or two from GABP in an attempt to sell these tickets.
So I go up to this guy:
Scalper – What you got?
Me (in a really bad ghetto-cool voice) – Man, I got tickets to Tuesday
Scalper – … not interested unless they behind the dugouts
Me – They are (and I show him the tickets at which point he is interested)
Scalper – How much you want for them? (he is not using a ghetto voice on me – as far as I can tell he is a Rhodes Scholar doing a Sociology study on moronic white guys who try to act cool while talking to black scalpers)
Me – I take half face (I take? … Could I be any more lame?)
Scalper – I’ll give you $80 (half face is $120)
Me – Nah (I have never said Nah in my life except when interrupted by someone while I was saying the word “nautical” which I have said maybe a dozen times in my life)
So he asks his buddy-scalper friend to see if he wants to make a bid – so I show the tickets to him and he looks at them and then tries to hold them (apparently to get a closer look) but I don’t let go of them and he tugs once or twice (I still don’t let go) and says this while giving me a dead-ass dirty look:
Buddy-scalper – I ain’t gonna steal them motherfucker
Now I am a little scared as I pissed off a scalper and he is now giving me a fuck-you look for apparently assuming because he is black, he will steal me blind at every turn. From my perspective, I just did not want to let go of the tickets until a deal was made. Although if I really think about it, I probably would have let go of them if a 60 year old white woman wanted to look at them – so I probably wasn’t completely clear of profiling.
So he says:
Buddy-scalper – I’ll give you $90.
Me – Tell you what, my son and I are going to go to lunch and when we walk back to GABP, you guys let me know if you want them for $100. (apparently, the ‘ghetto-cool’ attempt wasn’t working so I reverted back to ‘standard business guy’ and made a trial close on making a deal and then I split – as nothing is more appealing than wanting something that just left)
So my son and I go to lunch … and as we start walking back to these guys I’m thinking I might as well sell these tickets for whatever they offer as I have no other options unless I want to do more work to sell them (which I had no interest in doing)
So a half block from the corner where the original scalpers were working, a third scalper meets me and says:
Third Scalper – You still have the four for Tuesday?
Me – Yep (now I am in full suburban voice as ‘yep’ sounded like ‘Golly, I sure do’)
Third Scalper – You take $110?
Me – Deal (he pays me and I give him the tickets)
So I’m feeling pretty good, I have $110 in my pocket, ditched four tickets and now going to watch the Reds game – as I am walking back to GABP, the original two scalpers made a beeline to me:
Scalper – Hey Man, I’ll give you $100 for the four Tuesday.
Me – I just sold them to that guy (and pointed to the third scalper a half block up the street)
Scalper – You did what?
Me – I thought he was with you. (which was a complete lie but I wasn’t sure of the scalper code of ethics – I realize I could sell my tickets to anyone/anytime but I still had the Buddy-scalper dead-ass dirty “black guy is going to steal the tickets” fuck you look still on my mind.)
Scalper – Which guy?
Me – That guy right up there in the street wearing the black hat.
He looks up the street to the third scalper whose name is apparently Chico and says:
Scalper – Chico … you cocksucking, motherfucking bastard.
As I looked up the street at the Third Scalper now known as Chico, I see him smiling and dancing a little dance for being called a ‘cocksucking, motherfucking bastard’ … as his antics seemed to answer back “I got the tickets first as I saw the dude walking down the street before you did and I walked half way up the street to meet him … so fuck you too bitch.”
I just wanted to leave and realized the only thing keeping me there was an odd desire to see a shooting but thought it might be me so I just walked away without saying goodbye or nothing. How rude.
And the kicker to all of this … that Tuesday Reds/Yankees game – the one I had the four tickets that got me out of my comfort zone, witness first-hand the wheels of underworld commerce, the tickets I sold for $110 which I spent on who knows what … that Tuesday game, June 21, 2011 – was in fact …
… Rained Out.
Who knows what Chico did with the tickets.
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