Barcelona, Spain
Adele was playing Barcelona for two evenings. I love a good hello from the other side, but not so much at ten times face value for a ticket. I asked Husband if he wanted to take a gamble. He said yes.
Me: “Bring a book and let’s go.”
Husband: “A book?”
Me: “Trust me.”
Books in hand, we hopped the metro shortly before the show started and rode out to Palau Sant Jordi, the concert venue.
Outside the gates were the usual collection of scalpers. Tickets were in the 400-euro range.
Husband: “You really want to pay that much for a ticket?”
Me: “Are you kidding? Stand near the gate and start reading. Whenever I ask you a question, just say ‘no.’”
A few of the scalpers approached, offering to sell us tickets. I told them we’d dropped our kids at the concert and were waiting for them. Every time a scalper made an overture, I asked Husband if he wanted to go to the concert; he always responded with “No!”.
Husband and I loitered and read our books. Concertgoers dwindled, as did the scalpers offering tickets. I could overhear their sales pitches; prices were declining.
It was five minutes until the show was supposed to start. Latecomers ran from the metro to the entrance gates. The scalpers still remaining offered them tickets but were brushed off. Two scalpers approached us again. Prices had dropped to 150 euros per ticket. I asked Husband what he thought; he gave me another “No.”
We could hear that the show had begun. No more concertgoers approached the doors. Husband, me, and three scalpers were left. I whispered to Husband, “When I wink, stop saying ‘no,’ but don’t say ‘yes,’ either.”
I waved over the closest scalper and asked to see his ticket locations. He had some good pairs. In Spanish, I asked how much.
Scalper: “Ninety euros.”
Me: “A pair?”
Scalper: “No—each.”
Me: “I’ll ask my Husband.”
Husband gave me the No. (He was getting quite good at it.)
Me (to the scalper): “Sorry, he won’t go for it.”
Scalper: “Tell him seventy euros each.”
Me: “I’ll try, but I don’t think it’ll work. The show’s already started. And he doesn’t really like Adele anyway.”
I put the question to Husband. When I got my negative answer, I shook my head sadly at the scalper. I turned away and opened my book. Husband followed my lead.
Less than a minute later, the scalper drew near again.
Scalper: “Ninety euros for two tickets.”
I checked the location. (Hooray for concert venue apps.) The seats were one level up from the floor, unobstructed view.
“What do you think?” I asked Husband, and winked.
He did a perfect hem-and-haw.
I turned to the scalper. “How about fifty for the pair?” (This was less than face value.)
Scalper hesitated. Husband went back to his book.
“Okay, it is a deal,” the scalper said. I handed over the cash and he handed over the tickets.
And that’s how Husband and I got in to see Adele. We missed her opening number of “Hello,” but I was okay with that.
After the concert, I asked Husband what he thought of my strategy.
Husband: “It was pretty brilliant. But you know, it wouldn’t have worked without my superb acting.”
Me: “You’re right, Honey. No one says ‘no’ like you do.”
