I hesitated for a moment too long about whether I could make Buck 65’s February 21 gig in Hoxton. So when I went online to get tickets, there was a big X through the ticket icon.

Despite getting ample heads up from Amsterdam Andy, I had missed the boat. “No online tickets,” the site read, “But a limited number will be available at the door.” Oh, I thought, that sounds promising.

There weren’t.

Not for lack of waiting either. We spent three hours outside the venue door, drinking beers and monitoring the situation, until it finally became clear that we were not going

Fortunately, I’m fucking irrepressible. I took this disappointment on the chin. This frankly excellent attitude is due to a couple of factors: one I’ve seen Buck before a few times, and have those sweet memories.

Plus I had very recently (less than an hour prior) received a sweet new haircut, so I was in a pretty good mood.

And my co-attendee Dave Waller can roll with punches like few others. So 66% of us took the news pretty well.

But our new friend Spanish Martin railed, wept, shook his fist, and was nigh-on inconsolable for stretches of our futile wait. I met him at the venue when we both arrived around 7pm and peeked in on soundcheck. Turned out we had similar music tastes, he bought a round of beers, and we settled in, to be joined by Dave a little later on.

By the time 9:30 rolled around Martin, Valencia’s oldest and most earnest Buck 65 fan, had run the gamut of emotional extremes. Luckily, he had emerged from the despair-rage of the 8:05-8:28 period to arrive at a good place.

Besides, we three had enjoyed some beers, some laughs, some frustration, and some life lessons.

So in the end, not a bad night. But, can’t help but think that we could have had all that cake and ate it too, with a little less pre-purchase hesitation, and a little more ticket.

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