Before tickets went on sale in January for the recent U2 concert at the Pepsi Arena, I'd heard about how popular the show would be. There was so much buzz about the band and the tour that it seemed the steep price structure ---- $125 for first-level seats and $85 for the upper-level ones ---- wouldn't stop people from buying.

If I hadn't passed on a few high-profile, high-priced shows that I'd wanted to see in the past few years ---- like Fleetwood Mac's reunion tour ---- I might have been able to let this one go by. My stubborn streak was showing. I was determined not to miss what was already being billed as one of the must-see entertainment events of the year.

I had a secret weapon: I planned to call a Ticketmaster outlet outside the Capital District. I figured this would get me through the system quicker and easier. After all, it worked last year when I called Hartford, Conn., to buy tickets for the September Phish show in Albany. I didn't see why it wouldn't work this time. To be safe, I decided to call even farther away.

After 10 minutes or so of pressing the redial button on my phone, I got through to the one Ticketmaster number in Delaware. Then there was 10 minutes or so of waiting in queue, before I got through to a series of automated menus. Voice-recognition software recorded what show I wanted to see, where it was and when. This eventually led to seat assignments and even my credit card number.

Although it seemed like the transaction was complete, I thought I should wait for a live operator to confirm my reservation. I waited seven to 10 minutes and someone did come on the line. Except, he started the process all over again, as if I hadn't given them the information.

After a few of these same questions, I explained that I'd already gone through the automated process. He said he didn't know anything about that. We continued and he eventually found some seats for me. They weren't as good as the ones I thought I'd had, but I went ahead and purchased them anyway. Bad seats were better than no seats.

A few weeks later, one UPS package arrived in the morning, and another UPS package arrived in the afternoon. I had four $85 tickets when I only wanted two.

No sweat, I thought. The show was sold out. Even though the tickets were a bit overpriced, I was sure there'd be someone who'd want to buy them.

I sent out feelers. I asked around. Eventually I sent e-mails to family and friends. Through all this, I had three leads. But no takers.

It got to be the week before the show and I still hadn't decided what to do. Should I put an ad in the paper? Put them out on eBay?

No sweat, I thought. I'll just sell them outside the arena. I didn't want to make a profit, just recoup my investment.

We got into Albany at 5 p.m. As I scanned the crowd that was already starting to hang around outside the arena, I tried to figure out who would be trying to sell and who might be buying. As time passed, it became clear there were more sellers than buyers.

Maybe I gave up too soon. I definitely could have been more assertive. To do over again, I would have been prepared with a good sales pitch and the gumption to use it. Just standing there, tickets subtly in hand or fanned out in folded arms is not the way to attract a buyer. Especially when supply far outweighs demand.

Finally, my nerves got jangled by listening to the same scalper walk up and down the sidewalk saying, "Tickets here. Cheap." I started to lose hope. Would I even get half of what I paid? At 7:20, just 10 minutes before the warm-up band was supposed to take the stage, we found a scalper willing to pay $40 for the pair of tickets. I went inside disappointed, but relieved. Now we could get ready to have some fun.

About 10 minutes before U2 took the stage, I noticed a large number of upper-level seats were still empty. But about 10 minutes after they came on, every seat was filled and the floor was about three-quarters filled with people who'd opted for the $45 standing-only admission.

It must have been an interesting scene outside the arena as showtime approached. The image in my mind is like Wall Street five minutes before the final bell. Buy-buy-buy. Sell-sell-sell.

I wonder, too, about the people who got our tickets. How much did they pay for them? Had they expected to pay more or less?

Even though I lost money, I enjoyed the concert immensely. U2 put on a great show. Plus, I learned a valuable economics lesson: Never assume the law of supply and demand is on your side.

Kay Hafner, a writer from Queensbury, wants to hear from anyone who had similar experiences with Ticketmaster. Contact her via e-mail at [email protected].