All those empty seats and we can’t even sit together

COMMENT: Going above and beyond is all in a day’s work at QA

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Has empty seat spotting at the Olympics become more of an attraction than the sport on offer?

The issue will supposedly be fixed this week, with a plan to give empty seats to local school children and teachers. But I think a good proportion of the nation will still be sitting there, flicking through the 24 channels, tutting as spaces look like they’ve been sneezed all over venues.

Surely the organisers should have seen this empty situation coming? All they’d have needed to do was watch the excellent Twenty Twelve, the BBC’s caustic but loving look at Olympic organisation.

And the only solution is to offer the seats to school children? What about the rest of us who’ve paid taxes to help this happen? Who pay our TV licences to enable coverage? Who live here and make it so great?

I would have let it go as one of those things if I wasn’t so darn peeved about the impossibility of buying tickets for a family of five. You can, apparently, buy tickets for four people or less.

I have repeatedly contacted the website to ask for help on simultaneous buying so that my children can sit with their parents. It wouldn’t be fair to split them between us as, undoubtedly, I would go for the spectacle rather than the sport. Much better to sit with my husband who has a fair understanding of what’s going on and actually learn something from the whole event. Not that I’ve had a response yet, perhaps that’ll come mid-August.

How annoying is it though to see all those empty chairs? You can count the five available places in row, after row, after another row. We don’t really care what we go and see – except now we won’t be going to see anything at all.

I suggested my husband book himself a ticket and even that proved to be too insanely difficult to do on the worst website in the world.

It’s ironic isn’t it, that the opening ceremony celebrated all that was digital, except that the one website you really want to be able to crack seems to have been scorched by the Olympic flames themselves until it’s frazzled beyond repair. Or maybe it’s still in the dark depths of rural Britain and has yet to enjoy its industrial revolution.