I wanted two tickets to WrestleMania 29, featuring top shelf superstars like The Rock, Triple H and Brock Lesnar, which is set to blow the roof off the MetLife Stadium on April 7, 2013 in East Rutherford, New Jersey, right in ol' Hulk Holland's backyard.

I didn't get them.

I'm not sure what I did wrong, considering I waited on the virtual line for tickets earlier today (Nov. 8) like a good little mark. WWE held a special presale through Ticketmaster starting at 10 a.m. ET using the password LINES, as in bypass the long LINES and order them on the web.

Easy enough.

So at 10 a.m. ON THE DOT I refreshed the Ticketmaster ordering screen and chose two tickets in the nosebleeds for 35 bucks (plus "fees") and boom, I get stuffed in the virtual queue with an ominous "eight minutes remaining" message.

Fair enough.

Eight minutes go by and I get denied. Apparently, there were no seats together anywhere in the upper deck and they kindly asked me to stop being a cheapskate try again. So I up the ante and go to $50 a seat, still in the hinterlands, but whatever, I just want to be there.

Another eight minutes expire and I get burned again.

I am not unintelligent. I know how the system works and I know how to order tickets. I did everything I was supposed to do. So after completing this process ad nauseam (and upping the ticket price each round) I gave up, but went back just for shits and giggles and punched in "best available" and "any price."

Voila.

Miraculously, I had just a two minute wait and presto, I was more than welcome to purchase tickets in the $750 dollar range, which still doesn't get you on the floor. That's right, fellow Cagesiders, in Giants Stadium, where I've seen everyone from Big Blue to the Rolling Stones, the only seats available in a venue that holds 80,000 were $750 and up.

Uh-huh.

I understand WrestleMania is a big deal and demand is high and blah, blah, blah. But to be honest, I'm not sure what I could have done differently. Maybe there were thousands of other fans who beat me to the punch, or maybe scalpers and other money-hungry resellers scooped up the cheap seats to make a profit somewhere down the pike.

I don't know.

What I do know, is that I want to take my kid to the biggest professional wrestling event of the year and I can't. I don't have $1500 to drop on a live event, probably because I already spent around $500 this year ordering WWE pay-per-views. And despite my massive ego and diva attitude, I don't want special treatment or post-Sandy sympathy because at the end of the day, this is the epitome of first-world problems.

Doesn't mean I have to like it.