For reasons more to do with generating fake hysteria than running a fair and efficient process, the organisers elected to put the tickets on sale at 9:00am. On a Friday morning. When the majority of buyers would be at school, college or work. Genius.
So, CF and Mrs CF duly fired up their computers, grabbed their 'phones and dived in.
What a total waste of fucking time that was. Pathetic.
Every one of the 'official' websites selling tickets ground to a complete halt under the load. Screens timed out, queue positions changed at random, and key pages disappeared. The 'phones, of course, were perpetually engaged.
Clearly some people were getting tickets, but there seemed no way through this impenetrable wall of fuck-up.
Then, by 9:30, the screens began to refresh a little more quickly. Why? Because the fucking tickets had sold out. Without even getting as far as being able to enter credit card details, CF had missed the boat.
But then, what's this? A few minutes later, not even 10 o'clock yet, Google finds a load of tickets, newly available. Just not through the official sites. No. Through ebay, Seatwave and all the other ticket re-selling services.
Only funnily enough, they were no longer available at 140 quid. Oh no. Suddenly, the cheapest weekend ticket was being resold at nearly 250 quid. Way beyond CFette #2's budget.
So, a whole shitload of the people swamping the websites and blocking the 'phone lines were not doing so to get tickets to see their favourite bands, to enjoy a day of music. No. They were hoping to make an easy 50 quid (yeah, the re-selling sites take the rest) for a morning of 'phoning or surfing.
Thanks very much, guys.
While he should probably take a more mature attitude, and recognise that everyone has a right to indulge in this kind of speculation, in reality CF hopes the money fucking chokes you.