Karma is a Bitch

 I have always HATED scalpers. With a passion. I believe that those who exploit the desperation of music lovers (not so much the fluoro singlet wearing douchey festival poser types) have a special circle of hell reserved for them. And apparently so does a man named Karma.

And so the story begins. It was a hot (and I mean STINKING hot) spring afternoon in Mexico City. The air was full of excitement but at the same time, the stink of desperation. It was the second day of Vive Latino, and floods of people were piling into the festival area, to see lots of great bands? Probably. To enjoy the atmosphere of the festival? Maybe. To pay $70 for a beer. Beats me? Or the more likely... to see Los Caifanes play their first show in 15? 20? 13 years. Now let me explain, Los Caifanes are a BIG DEAL! They are the spanish speaking equivalent of the Rolling Stones. Classic rock which is adored by all generations. So there we were. Hanging around outside like a bad smell because a particular person was late/uncontactable/a douche and waiting in the hot sun. Thousands of people were pouring in, the mere sight of which scared the living be-jesus out of us. "THEY'LL TRAMPLE US!!" I was imagining a headline on MSN Today: 2 Australian girls trampled to death in Mexican Rock Festival. So as we stood there hanging around like a bad smell, we met some fabulous Mexicans named Karla and Moctezuma.

And until that moment we had not even considered it. Sell our tickets and NOT go inside the festival? You must be mad! But then we began thinking about it. And we realised that 1) We didn't even know who the Caifanes were. 2) We were waiting for a particular person (!!!) 3) Being trampled and squished by a million Caifanes fans didn't seem like that much fun and 4) The vibe of the festival just didn't seem all that cool, people just seemed pushy and desperate. So we decided. SELL THE TICKETS! All 3 of them. After all there are funner things to do in Mexico City. And may I just mention that there were a LOT of people who were desperate for tickets. Sold Out tickets I may add. And grade 11 economics taught me one thing... that when supply is low and demand is high, prices = ... Well as you can just imagine we had dollar signs in our eyes. So in a mental pact we set a price, Lilly (the least enterprising of the 2 of us) agreed to shut her mouth and not settle for a lower price and within not long at all we were 3 tickets poorer and several pesos richer! (and i mean SEVERAL!). Only on the way out, with our pockets lined with cash did we notice the ticket office had JUST reopened and that tickets were being sold for the original price (MUCH lower than what we sold them for) and we licked our lips in glee.

And of course the next question was: What do we do now? Festival is not happening (we considered repurchasing tickets for the lower price and go in but we were already pretty much decided that we weren't going). So we wandered out into the street following our noses towards the tacos (that were so spicy they nearly killed me) and to our luck behind the taco stand was a van pumping out music, a little stall selling (cheap!) litres of beer and a party happening in the street. So we did what any self respecting person would do and took part in the party. Dancing and chatting to some wonderful Mexicans until we could not dance anymore. It was a fun night and we definately did not regret missing the festival. After all Los Caifanes blaring out from a van is just as good as seeing them perform live right? So we went back to Ulis house. Exhausted and happy and slightly drunk. Of course it wasn't until the next day that I realised what I had done.

 So I woke up and had a wonderful breakfast and was still feeling pretty pleased with myself in the knowledge that I was one rich lady! So we got ready, and jumped in the car and headed towards day 3 of the festival (or day 2 really for us). In the car, I was feeling particularly greedy and wanted to feel the $200 peso bills in my hand, to sniff them and bask in the glory. So I went into my bag to find the envelope that had my money in it. It wasn't there. I went into my backpack. It wasn't there. I called Uli to ask if I had left it at his house. I hadn't. So there it was. Somebody had stolen my money. Right from out of my bag. Stuck their hand in and pulled it out. It didn't take long to realise who it was. Not the creepy looking guy at the party. Not the weirdo on the metro (well I mean probably...) but no, it was the hand of Karma. Dipping his hand in and taking back the dirty money I had dishonestly obtained.

So that weekend I learned some valuable life lessons:

• Karma WILL come after you
• Scalping is bad. Just because someone is stupid/desperate enough to pay a HUGE price for tickets doesn't mean they deserve to be ripped off
• If you DO decide to be dishonest, it is always dirty money which is best disposed of just as quickly as it was obtained. Do not tightfist dirty money. That's how people get hit by cars and slip on banana peels.
• Sometimes clowns have girlfriends... a bit creepy yes, but payasos are people too!
• Some boys just don't give up! Even when you burp in their faces, ignore them and piss in public
• Mexico City is FUCKING AWESOME!
• I love street parties and music festivals