In the midst of an already overwhelming week – dealing with sick kids, work deadlines, and severe sleep deprivation – I embarked on what should have been a simple task: picking up concert tickets for Dua Lipa. Little did I know I was about to enter the labyrinthine world of SM Tickets, where logic takes a back seat to bureaucracy, and simple tasks transform into Kafkaesque adventures.
Act One: The First Failed Attempt
My journey began at SM City Masinag on a Friday evening. After a 3.5-kilometer run to reach the mall, I arrived at the customer service counter at 7:20 PM, only to be informed I had missed them by 20 minutes. A minor setback, I thought, naively unaware of the ordeal that awaited me.
I ran back home and would try again later in the week.
Act Two: The Run-Around
Returning a few days later, I made the same 7-kilometer round trip journey. Only to be greeted with a plot twist: the customer service counter no longer processed SM Tickets. “You’ll need to go to the cinema,” they said. A recent change for policy.
This sent me up three floors in search of my elusive tickets. It meant that during the previous trip when I’d asked multiple different people for help none of the staff at the SM department store knew about the change and no one informed me of it.
Act Three: The Digital Dilemma
At the cinema counter, a new challenge emerged. My forwarded email confirmation? Insufficient. They needed the original PDF ticket, which necessitated an impromptu digital scavenger hunt.
Firstly, I wasn’t the person who purchased the ticket, it was my partner Jen. So I sulked off. Waiting in an abandoned part of the mall while my wife, who was at home, logged into the SM Ticket website and whilst trying to fend off our kids, hold up her phone so I could see on the video call, with some suggestions from me eventually navigated through a maze of menus to locate the correct document which she sent me.
Act Four: The Print Odyssey
Finally armed with the correct PDF, I approached the counter triumphantly. But wait – they wouldn’t accept the digital version. It needed to be printed. This led to a side quest to a nearby tronics store, where I battled with Bluetooth connections and parted with 10 pesos for the privilege of turning digital bits into physical paper.
Act Five: The Authorization Saga
Returning with the printed claim voucher, I faced the final boss: authorization verification. Despite having the ticket holder on video call, ready to confirm my identity and authorization, this wasn’t enough. No, what they needed was a physical letter, complete with signature – A document that might as well have been sealed in wax and delivered by a knight on a horse.
After all of that I was turned away. I had Jen’s ID card and details. Maybe I could have gotten her to somehow email me a file with her signature and gotten it printed, but she was now busy trying to cook food for the family.
The Grand Finale
After navigating the byzantine processes that would make Kafka proud, I admitted defeat. The simple task of collecting concert tickets had transformed into an epic saga involving multiple trips, digital gymnastics, and enough paperwork to deforest a small woodland.
The solution? When we hired the car to drive to the Philippine Arena we stopped at a different SM Mall and Jen, the ticket holder came in person, with the printed voucher, ID and everything else.
This was just hours before having to go to the concert and was certainly after the 3pm deadline they would later impose, causing a whole other saga. But thankfully we got what we needed.
Epilogue
In an age where digital transactions are the norm and efficiency is supposedly paramount, SM Tickets stands as a testament to the maddening power of bureaucracy. Their process isn’t just complicated – it’s a masterclass in how to turn a five-minute task into a multi-day adventure.
The silver lining? At least when Dua Lipa performed, it was worth it.
Originally written 12th Nov 2024 just not posted until later.
