by Harry Jans

Disgruntled boyfriend of a die-hard ‘Swifty’, Ged Janzcinski, sat in a fugue state of anticipation, yearning for Ticketek to end this hellish facade of digital imprisonment. A swathe comprised of the remains of his heaving mind and an aluminium copper alloy of textile-like adrenalinised sweat was the only thing keeping Janzcinski’s chin above his Adam’s apple.

After misreading the American Express presale information and being rudely reminded of his place below the poverty line by the c*ntishly named VIP packages, and after missing out in the Frontier presale, the General Admissions glimmered in his heart as a ray of hope.

His brain however, knew better. Logged into the Ticketek queue on 3 of the office’s desktops, a laptop, his iPod and phone, Janzcinski waited. The hypnotically inconsistent countdown to what was sure disappointment sat at the helm of his now seemingly meaningless life. That akin to a hamster on a wheel.

1 hour went by.

10… 9… 8…

Another 45 minutes.

7… 6…

He scratched his head. Then his arse.

25 more minutes gone.

5… 4… 3..

He prayed to God. Then Allah. Then Buddha. No particular order, just shooting his shot.

2…

Please, deliver me.

1… 0.

Nothing. Again.

The blue bar was unrelenting, yet the text now read “GENERAL ADMISSION – SOLD OUT”. The silence was deafening.

This reporter could almost hear the bubbling of Janzcinski’s blood as he visibly wrestled with the notion of revenge.

“The Taylor Swift renaissance and its consequences have been a disaster for the human race” he whispered to no one in particular, his eyes no longer concerned with anything in the office.

Janzcinski calmly walked out of the office at 5:34pm on a Friday evening and hasn’t been seen by anyone since. The last search item in his browser was left up and has been on the office gossip rotation for the last 4 days; ‘how to build a cabin in the woods’.

Stay tuned, Australia. This may be his Eras era.