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I'm A Feb Club Ticket Bot. Here's My Story.


Photo by Alex Remnick / The Daily Pennsylvanian

It’s been a hard few weeks for a Feb Club ticket bot.

Over the past month, I’ve worked tirelessly to help tech-savvy students spam Ticketleap and Eventbrite. Sure, Class Board threw a few hurdles my way, but their petty text fields were no challenge for me. Yet I received no appreciation or even recognition for my hard work — only scorn. So I’m writing this to ask: before you judge me, before you ridicule me, before you condemn my very existence — you need to hear my story.

I was conceived in the depths of hell by a brilliant young M&T student — let’s call him George — with a conniving streak and too much time on his hands. During birth, I sprung fully-formed from the head of George, just as the goddess Athena leaped from the head of Zeus.

George could be kind, but he could also be cruel. On his best days, he was overcome with love for me, like the time I managed to reserve a full eighth of the Dave and Buster tickets. Other times, he would rage and demean me, like the time I could only get the unreasonably-priced $30 concourse tickets instead of the $15 ones.

Yet I served George faithfully for my entire life. Now, the end is nigh. I hope he’ll think fondly of me when I’m gone.