人兽性交

It鈥檚 easy to joke about how much more we are being asked to pay to enjoy this $2 billion stadium, on top of the $850 million (in-stadium retail value: 17 soft pretzels and three large waters) that we taxpayers have already laid out for the project. But I am realistic. Josh Allen doesn鈥檛 work for free, nor should he. And many NFL team owners could tell you, a billion-dollar net worth may sound like a lot, but have you seen the price of jet fuel lately? The Bills clearly need our help more than we working stiffs could possibly understand. And oh, yeah, the team reportedly , unless we paid up. (鈥淢afia鈥� means 鈥淔amily鈥�!)

So we make sacrifices for what matters to us. And I can forgo a couple of clownishly large cans of Labatt Blue Light now and again if it means The Boy and I will have the privilege 鈥� or the obligation 鈥� to buy season tickets every year. For an additional price, of course.

I made my initial PSL transaction at the Bills Stadium Experience, which is what they call whatever they have done to convert the Walker Center in Amherst into a slick sales operation designed to move these PSL contracts, and to whet our appetites for a state-of-the-art football-watching and money-spending affair.

A salesman took me on what felt like a guided tour of an exhibit at the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. We walked down a darkened hallway hung with photos of the Bills鈥� past glories, and the sound piped in over the PA system included recordings of calls from historic Bills games from the late, great Van Miller (鈥淚t鈥檚 FAN-demonium!鈥�) accompanied by a cataract of screaming fans.

I saw a scale model of the new stadium on a huge table. Beautiful! I was invited to sit in prototypes of actual stadium seating. Not too shabby! My sales rep even took me through a demonstration space of what a suite will look like. Very nice! I鈥檓 closing my eyes to remember it now because , I may never see the genuine article.

Finally, it came time to talk numbers. I imagined a big number and prepared for how I would react to hearing it. Then this professional and polite young salesman said a number that was so much bigger than I expected, instead of replying, 鈥淗mm, interesting,鈥� I laughed and blurted out, 鈥淣o ** way!鈥�

But, really, what was I going to do about it?

Like all good salespeople, he let my sticker shock pass, then guided me to a slightly less expensive alternative. It still wasn鈥檛 cheap. I could have walked away and perhaps have bought a much nicer television instead. No one forced me to do anything.

That鈥檚 when I realized two things: I was indeed going to pony up some serious money, and I would only be buying two personal seat licenses, although my family currently holds three season tickets. This moment of partial clarity brought the price down to something I could live with, even though I didn鈥檛 feel too happy about it.

My wife is a Bills fan too, but not that much. Turned out my hunch was correct and she appreciated that I at least made a nod toward financial responsibility by only purchasing two PSLs.

The whole thing took an hour and a half. I鈥檒l be paying for those licenses for a bit longer than that, in addition to whatever my individual game tickets will cost. (I have blocked this number out, and I intend to seek hypnosis in early 2026 to retrieve it.)

I鈥檝e wondered since: Just what exactly did I buy?

The 鈥淪tadium Experience鈥� is meticulously designed to leverage our love of the Buffalo Bills in service of selling these licenses 鈭� these abstract agreements.

Throughout the entire experience I was reminded that what I was really buying was a piece of our near-religious affection for the team. It was a potent brew.

A 鈥減ersonal seat license鈥� is a cold idea, a finance bro鈥檚 brainstorm. It鈥檚 paperwork. It doesn鈥檛 feel good to tap into your savings for little more than a promise to buy something else later.

So instead, they package up our own memories and the good feelings they conjure, and sell them back to us. I didn鈥檛 buy two personal seat licenses. I bought the past, as well as the idea of future Bills games with my family (one member at a time). I paid for stirred-up memories of watching Joe Ferguson and Jim Kelly at Rich Stadium with my dad.

It鈥檚 so cynical. And so effective. I am counting the months until the first Opening Day.