Clemson Camping

I worked hard for this:

It’s not as simple as walking up to the ticket counter, handing over your CUID and IPTAY card, and receiving a ticket in return. Well, erm, it is… so to speak. But not if you want a SECTION A, ROW L ticket. That’s right; I’m on the lower level 12 rows back.

My journey started off at midnight, when I trekked from Byrnes down to the football stadium to meet some friends who had been holding our spot. Out in the cold I stood in shorts (stupid me) and flip-flops (seriously, what was I thinking?) bojangling — which I have been informed is another word for “shooting the bull”. After about an hour of standing in the same place, I had to excuse myself and take a walk around the stadium. Rounding the corner, I witnessed all of the tents which had been setup, some since Monday, to be first in line for tickets. I’m assuming it’s a thing of Clemson pride, but that’s silly.

Indulging my inner child, I counted to find that we were the 37th tent from the front. Assuming that there were only 4 people per tent on average, we would be nearly the 150th ticket distributed. That didn’t seem to bad… until I realized that we were the last in line. Why, I asked myself, would I be camping out the night before the IPTAY ticket distribution if I could wake up early the next day and stand in line? Oh well, it was all in good spirit (and I was too cold to walk back).

Bullshitting a few hours more, we were greeted by 2 drunk bikers who stopped to chat with us for a bit. We enjoyed their company, but they soon parted and I retired to the tent. Here comes the fun part. Stubborn me had brought nothing but a thin blanket to keep me warm, but the extreme drop in temperature was the factor for which I hadn’t accounted. Laying on the cold concrete with merely a sheet to shield my bosom [wow, I have to stop writing when I'm tired], it took me a few tries to fall asleep.

Somehow, with only 4 times waking up in the middle of the night, the clock flipped to 7 and I “woke up” to get my ticket. The ticket wasn’t an instant gratification for waking up. First the tent had to be pulled down, the area policed, and then the line creeping. Tired at this point after just waking up, I became pretty good at “resting my eyes” while standing up, blindly advancing in the line when I heard the simultaneous shuffle of feet. How long would this take?

Inch by inch we crept closer to the ticket counter. up the stairs, in the stadium, down the ramp until I reached the window, asking for a Section A ticket. And that’s it! With ticket in hand, I was satisfied. But still, something was missing. Something didn’t feel right.

Why couldn’t I have just come early in the morning? Why did I insist on camping?

Waiting for the bus back to the other side of campus (because walking with frozen feet is completely out of the option), I overhear some people, who had formed the caboose of the line before I woke up, talking about how they were given seats in ROW V. That’s 11 rows back from the seat which I had gleamed only minutes before. So I realized that minutes make all the difference.

So what’s the take-home lesson from this story? That’s easy… I have a kickass seat to the Wake Forest vs. Clemson game nearly a week ahead of the regular student distribution schedule. I win.