What’s that? You don’t have $8 to spare after Binghamton sucked you so dry from tuition fees, parking “violations,” and the potential idea that you might steal something from the dining halls - not actually doing it, just the mere concept that you could - that you resemble that little fucking real life alien they presented before Mexican Congress? Or perhaps you missed out on the chance to purchase a ticket within the picosecond window provided because everyone has the same bright idea you do since we are a university of esteemed minds. Regardless of whatever the case may be, you’re in luck; I’ve traveled far and wide through sleight of hand and the gift of gab to where I have utmost thoroughly cracked the code. Don’t believe me? Well, you’re just a little hater and I don’t even care. Tell that to Ronnie Radke of Falling in Reverse fame, who I managed to get a sliver of a picture of for free instead of paying $200 like a sucker. If you’re around him, actually, I’ve got some things I’d love if you could do for me real quick, like popping his inflated forehead with a dart. If you wish to burst the proverbial forehead of Binghamton’s Fine Arts Building, however, here’s what you need to know.
Upon entry, assuming you don’t have a bag that you’re obviously carrying explosives and darts in, they will be quite lenient when people first start pouring in at least one entrance. At this point, you can merely flash your phone for quick and easy entry. You can’t just show any old QR code, however. Well, you probably could, but for the sake of seeming legitimate, you’ll want your phone to display a particular format:
Copy this image for the header:
Either when the flood of paying customers who don’t have to jump through all these hoops starts to die down or at an arbitrary point, the underpaid workers will begin to actually verify their QR codes. There is a chance that your bupkis ticket works. Do not take that chance. Instead, consider the remaining methods at your disposal, preferably in chronological order: the Dead Phone Method, identity theft, and the Nuclear Option.
How could you have possibly foreseen your phone failing to maintain its battery life when the latest model was just announced? This and further forces beyond your control have left you with an overpriced brick that can’t even show the legit ticket you totally bought. Watch what unfolds as you’re transferred from employee to employee on this pressing matter. If they don’t let you in out of pity or convenience, you can take the cowardly route of survivors and flee while the going gets got, or you can press onward.
They may call a bigwig to verify your name in the official records. Once they descend upon you from beyond the Center’s pearly gates with a laptop in hand, be sure to stand at an angle where you can see it loud and clear. Provide only your first name, watch the list of those fortunate enough to have made it in pop into existence, and gleefully announce that you are in fact that one right there. Alternatively, if you don’t wish for whatever hassle that might blossom from getting that innocent person involved if the higher-up cares that much to make a big deal out of them already having signed in if they notice and/or mention it, you can provide your full name and express your genuine distress that it somehow got lost in the sea of attendees. Just know that whatever happens afterward, happens.
Although the results speak for themselves, allow me to elaborate on them all the same. Using the techniques described above in tandem with one-another, not only was I able to experience Giancarlo Esposito live on stage last night, but he actually recognized me in the audience (since we live in the same town), came down into the crowd, and carried me out with a piggyback ride where we frolicked and played across campus. Needless to say, it was so much fun.
