Morons in Papers - Christmas Edition

Christmas is coming and I decided to do a public service by reposting this old cautionary tale from 2012 (Just because I like it)

I'm sure it won't be much of a service though, as people who read my blog will be far too intelligent to fall for this pap

So if we're all sitting comfortably, I'll begin

The internet present that ruined our family Christmas: Tony Rennell thought he had found the dream gift for his son - what followed is a very cautionary tale

Now not being one to suffer fools, I'll have to add at this early stage in the post, it wasn't just the Internet present that ruined Christmas, the man who bought it has a lot to answer for too. And if it really did 'ruin the family Christmas', the family must have some thin skins.

For my Chelsea-mad nine-year-old son Harry, the treat I planned for Christmas was to be the gold and frankincense of presents, the stocking-filler supreme. It ended, sadly, in tears — mine and his — and a large dent in both my wallet and reserves of seasonal goodwill.

Our author begins the tale of a Christmas mystery in the style of of Agatha Christie, Ruth Rendell or maybe Closer Magazine, but what he reminds me of is The Life of Brian - I'll take the gold, you can keep the frankincense and myrrh...

Meanwhile, somewhere in the world a character — whose name may have been Brian Johnson but possibly wasn’t — was, I imagine, topping up his glass with very expensive champagne on Boxing Day on the proceeds of letting us down.

Enter the villain. The singer from ACDC getting drunk on the money he scammed from an old man. I'm not sure why an ageing rock singer is being blamed for this though?

On that very day, father and son should have been in the stand at Norwich FC, a thrilled Harry seeing his footballing heroes Frank Lampard, Juan Mata, Petr Cech upfront and personal for the very first time rather than via a television screen.

Ok, we're laying it on a bit thick now aren't we?

Instead, he is inconsolable and I am composing this cautionary tale of how even the most wary of us can be undone when we take to the internet to do business. As the police sergeant used to say in Hill Street Blues: ‘Hey, let’s be careful out there!’

Inconsolable? Because he didn't receive a present he wasn't expecting anyway? He should have been pacified by the time honoured lesson in life - Hey kid, shit happens. But when things go wrong, let's blame the internet.

Scroll back to mid-December and the Christmas present conundrum. We had Chelsea pyjamas and a Chelsea calendar, but what if I could get some tickets for an actual match?
There was no joy from the legitimate sources of tickets, the clubs. They were sold out and, anyway, you have to be long-standing signed-up fans and preferably season-ticket holders to get even close to the turnstiles.

And here's where it all starts to go wrong. All the tickets were sold out. Tough luck fella. You will now have to rethink your options and maybe try again a bit earlier next year.
No?

I hate ticket touts. Always have. Over the decades I’ve been going to football matches, I’ve brushed past those parasites on the streets outside with their furtive: ‘’Oo wants tickets, then? Best seats.’

You can see where this is going can't you? I hate ticket touts unless they have something I need, then my principles go out of the window.

But now [...] madness descended on me. I trawled the Internet and landed on Online Ticket Express. Great website, well-turned out, professional — that was a good sign.
Well turned out indeed. It seems they buy tickets that other folk no longer want and sell them on at a profit:
- We get tickets in your behalf on the secondary market for events that are usually sold out long in advance. The price of tickets on the secondary market is driven by demand and is usually higher than the face value (the price printed on the ticket).

Ethics aside, at least they are honest about it.

The tickets in question were advertised at £119 each, £238 for two. A great deal of money, yes, and well over their face value. But what price can you put on a child’s pleasure? And at Christmas time?

What price indeed? I would suggest a lot lower than £238 for ninety minutes of fun, purchased of the back of a secondary ticket market website because the official sources have sold out. But that's just me.

Of course, I had misgivings but I put them aside.

I'm sorry but you don't put misgivings aside. You do a bit of homework and if you can assure yourself, fair enough. If you can't you walk away.

I took the plunge, paying by debit card. The overall price had gone up by a £29 ‘handling fee’ to £267, but I was reassured because I now had an order number — 130719 — and an email confirming the transaction.

There are extra charges you weren't aware of but you were reassured by an order number? Send me £200 and I'll happily supply an order number by email.

The next day, payment was taken from my bank account, though the total had now risen to £301.94 because of more add-ons and what I now realised was some rather mystifying manipulation of euro/sterling equivalents in the original quote.
I was miffed, but not enough to be worried. The tickets were on their way, surely?

Surely. What could possibly go wrong?

December 21 came and went. No tickets. Nor the next day.
I began to have serious doubts. I needed to know more about Online Ticket Express, so I did what I should have done at the outset and typed the name into Google.

And what did you find?

To my horror, lots of angry and disappointed punters told of tickets not delivered and refunds that never arrived for football matches, concerts and other events for which Online Ticket Express offers its services.
I immediately rang my bank, but it was too late to stop the payment. As a precaution, I was advised to cancel my debit card given that the ticket company had my details. I did so.

Having had a Google myself, I get the impression that this website has not been set up with the intent of scamming people, that is just an added bonus. I've come across operations like this before in my working life. Their intentions are good, they are just so bad at what they do.

My son’s big day was about to be ruined. Suddenly the glitter on the Christmas tree looked tarnished. My thoughts turned to Dr Seuss and the Grinch who stole Christmas.

So who is the Grinch here? Online Ticket Express definitely, but what about the man who 'put his misgivings aside' to buy a tickets from an organisation he didn't trust because the official sources had sold out. Then proceeded to tell his kid exactly what he had done:

Christmas morning was tinged with disappointment in our household. After Harry had opened his other presents, we told him of the one it now seemed certain he wouldn’t be getting.
We had debated whether he needed to know, but it is right for children to learn that Santa doesn’t always come up trumps, however good we’ve been.
He was furious, disappointed, bewildered. How could people be so horrible? If he ever got hold them, he’d . . .

Let's have a look at what you could've won!

I'm going to miss out a huge tranche of the story now. He got a crackly phone call from an American called Brian Johnson who apologised for the missing tickets and offered a refund. He hasn't received the refund yet.
That's in a nutshell, the writer took another thousand words to explain that in the 'womens magazine feature special' style we have just become used to.
So the moral of the story folks? Don't let your desires overwhelm your common sense.

I was going to add, If it looks too good to be true it probably is. The thing is, at £238 for two tickets, it didn't even look that good.