Do you know who I am? I’m a ‘whale’ on that famous television show Whale Pool, and it’s going to be a really big problem if you don’t let me in to see Dead Presidents. Can you please just try scanning my paper QR code one more time, because I think your machine is broken. It couldn’t possibly be my piece of paper, printed out by my assistant. Actually maybe it is her fault. I bet there’s something wrong with the printer or maybe the ink is really low. But it can’t possibly be wrong. There’s got to be some explanation for this that has nothing to do with me. I want to speak to your manager, this is ridiculous. Do you know how much I paid for these tickets? Do you know that I just coyly tweeted at Len-Mario Ortega before arriving here tonight? He’s probably expecting me, you know. It’s going to be a really big problem if I don’t get to tweet about this show afterwards, and I have a lot of important Twitter followers. You think this is a scam? Do you really think I would have paid all that money for a scam? This is unacceptable. I’m going to tell every board member I know not to use this service. It’s all your fault. You ruined my night. More than that, you ruined my experience. There isn’t any way to make it up. I’ll never come back here again, unless I’m not paying, because that’s what rich people do: they give each other expensive things for free. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to Caroline’s to break my funny bone.