Since then, actually bringing this plan to fruition has proved to be quite a challenge. I quickly discovered that the game's been sold out for some time, so I began my search for the .003% of craigslist posters who possess the rare combination of decent tickets and basic communication skills.
After responding to a couple dozen listings (none of which listed a phone number) and getting no replies, I asked around at the office, figuring we've got a few season ticket holders here. I found the guy who had the Cavs game, but he's planning to go. He helpfully suggested "You should check on craigslist." Really?
Things got a little more desperate in the past few days. I offered to buy a group of four tickets over face value ... nope. I responded to listings of way overpriced nosebleed seats ... nada. I considered going way over my budget to buy a pair of tickets in the "banquet-included" section ... no dice.
Yesterday morning, another half-dozen e-mails to new listings, including one for a pair of 100-level seats at face value. Shyeah right. However, I got a call back about 30 minutes later: "They're yours if you want 'em."
"Hellz yeah. Where can I meet you?"
"I work in Beaverton, can you come out here tonight?"
"You bet. Name a place."
"Um ... how about the Hooters? Let's meet in the parking lot in front of the Hooters. Like at 9?"
"Sure! See you there." I was tempted to ask what our secret password would be. The hot wings walk at midnight or something.
Picked up Dad and drove out, expecting a no-show, or worse, tickets made on a laser printer. Instead, I found a clean-shaven guy sitting in his Camry, with the promised reward.
Section 119, baby.
