Selling Madonna (30.08.06)

The good thing about living in a world's city like Paris is that it's lively throughout the year, particularly in summer. During the season, there are hundreds of shows, attractions, exhibitions, concerts, etc - both gratuit or not. At times, you feel overwhelmed with the "what's on" information and the advertising of all the entertainment in town. You feel you want to do it all, but at the same time you simply don't have enough time. At the end, you would need to choose.

Last summer, when we found out that Madonna would throw live concerts in Paris, Dita and I were jumping up and down. We thought this could be a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to see the Queen of Pop live. So, I bought the two tickets ahead of time. Unsurprisingly, her 4-day concerts were quickly sold out. Luckily, I managed to get two seats for the evening of Aug 30, although, to be very frank, the ticket price was not cheap at all, even for the Parisien standard! What the heck! I thought Dita and I deserved such a treat to see a living legend like Madonna in a live action (Not that I am a big fan of hers, but there is no one else like her in the entertainment business. To me, she is a pop genius.) The good news is in France we are allowed to reimburse 50% of any loisir tickets through the Committe Entreprise. (Each year each company in France must contribute 1% of their revenue for their employee's entertainment. Employees could benefit many things from this CE program. Pretty cool, huh?)

So, from the moment we bought the tickets, the days seemed to be long. We were counting the days, eagerly expecting the D-Day to come. We had even arranged a baby sitter to look after Nadia. Then... the unexpected came. Nadia was not feeling well just a couple of days before the concert night. We prayed she would get better in time. But this time our prayer was not answered. C'est pas grave (that's not a problem.)

We could not go to see the show, that's for sure, but the show must go on. So, what about our tickets? Well, we had no options but to sell them at the last minute. From the morning of the D-Day, I tried to sell them through the French eBay, another French-based auction website and SLB bulletin boards. But none of them worked. It was just impossible to sell them online at the last minute.

Our last resort was to sell them at the gate alias 'jadi calo'!!!1) Here we go.... After work I went to Bercy stadium, where the show took place. I don't know how to describe my feelings and thoughts back then. I was not too convinced I could do this selling thing. I was not convinced someone would look for a ticket, let alone two, at the last minute. But who knows? I would try my luck. I had never had any experience being a 'calo' before in my life (not in a negative way, of course, because I was willing to sell them at the original price, if not with a little bit of discount. What the heck! The tickets must go!). Moreover, I had a very limited knowledge of French. My worries were paramounting.

When I arrived at Bercy 1.5 hours before the show was scheduled to start , I saw packs of people hustling and bustling, waiting for the gates to be opened. Among them, I noticed I was not the only 'calo' around. Indeed, there were quite a number of them. I smelled some competitions in the air. Some of them were professional. A few of them even asked me if I was willing to sell my tickets for half price. (Over my dead body, my friend!) I thought even if I failed to find a buyer, I would rather use the tickets myself than sell them to those people for way too cheap.

I approached several people, hoping they would fall for my charm (as if I had one, ahahaha....) Zero. Nothing. Nil. My charm did not work. The clock was ticking. I saw a family with 4 kids were doing the same as I was. I guess they were a bit lucky. Using their kids' charms, I noticed they managed to sell some tickets. People would tend to buy the tickets from them thinking they were not a pro. But a color man like me is selling tickets? What were they thinking? They might think I was doing it for life. A pro. A pro who would double the price.

Then I remembered one thing that boosted my confidence a little. As I came straight from work, I was dressing up quite smartly! So, I did not think my appearance would mimic the pros. At least I did not look like one of them. We'll see....

One hour had passed without any close prospects in sight, until a young Frenchman approached me and 'quietly' demanded for the price of the tickets I had tightly held in my hands. (I said 'quietly' because he then told me he was worried a police would raid 'calo'. He said he once had a bad experience when he had to sell his tickets at the gate of a show before.) He asked me to walk off from the crowd to make sure we were not being watched. He looked slick in his appearance. Perhaps around the same age as me. Knowing this could be it, I gave him a 10 euros discount for the two tickets. He agreed right away. He said he and his friend were desperately looking for two tickets. Done deal! Apparently, his friend had not arrived yet and this Frenchman had not enough cash with him. So, whilst waiting for his friend, we chatted away. A french working for Cap Gemini in Treasury. Speaks a not bad English with a very thick French accent. We then exchanged business cards.

In no time his friend appeared out of nowhere. Tickets and money were exchanged. I wished bon concert to the frenchman and his friend. He thanked me and said he would email me about the concert. Yeah, whatever.... I was just too happy as my tickets were finally sold and I could claim myself as a successful amateur 'calo' that night! Yoo-hooo...! From the bus, as I exhaled, I could see the other 'calos' were still out there trying hard to sell their tickets. Bonne chance!

Au revoir, Madonna! I don't know when or if we would ever have an opportunity to see you live before your age eats you up (it's my polite way to say, "you're getting old, Madame Madonna!")

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1) 'Calo' is an Indonesian word for someone whose profession is to sell tickets in a black market, usually with a ricidulously high price.