Eventbrite Made Millions Off Me. Here’s What I Did Instead.
- MilleNext Marketing
- Jun 13
- 4 min read

I still remember the buzz the first time I clicked “Create Event” on Eventbrite. My palms sweated with excitement. I had spent weeks organizing a local vinyl swap in my neighborhood, a casual block party where people trade records, swap stories, and find new beats. I imagined a packed crowd, laughter spilling into the street, and that sweet moment when someone discovers the perfect rare pressing they’ve hunted for months.
Fast forward a month. My event sold 150 tickets at $15 each. But when I checked my payout, Eventbrite had quietly sliced off nearly $500 in fees. I stared at the number, felt my chest tighten, and wondered how they managed to erase almost a third of my earnings without blinking. That’s when I realized Eventbrite didn’t just host events. It treated them as ATMs and it kept taking cash.
The Day My Revenue Vanished
I log into my dashboard and tally the numbers:
100 tickets × $15 = $1,500 in revenue
Service fee (3.7% + $1.79) per ticket = roughly $2.35
Processing fee 2.9% (per ticket + service fee) = roughly $0.503
Total fees per ticket = about $2.85
Multiply $2.85 by 100 tickets, and Eventbrite pocketed $285. They sent me $1215. My heart sank. I spent days distributing flyers, negotiating with food trucks, and lining up sound equipment. Yet their cut dwarfed my own profit. What kind of trade-off leads to a profit that barely covers the cost of renting tables?
Every weekend, I wrestled with that nagging voice: “Is this platform worth it?” When I shot them a message, support promised faster payouts but I still waited days after my events ended to see my money. Meanwhile, I juggled vendor payments, hired extra help, and tracked expenses with a frantic spreadsheet. The tools I needed felt absent: no group chat for attendees, no built-in way to post event photos, no hyperlocal discovery, just a rigid, transactional system that drained my revenue and energy.
I Needed a Better Way
That spring, a friend mentioned Maoney. He described it as a “one-stop shop” for local event hosts. I shrugged and kept hosting on Eventbrite until the next event confirmed a pattern. I planned a small book swap in my building’s courtyard. Ten people RSVP’d, but four didn’t show. I texted reminders, posted flyers, and even baked extra cookies, but those four spots stayed empty. At the end of the evening, I counted cookies, realized they outnumbered guests, and wondered if I’d ever run a tight, efficient event again.
I stumbled on Maoney’s signup page in late March. A clean interface invited me to create a free account. They promised zero-hosting fees, group chat tools that actually work, and instant payouts. I still felt skeptical, was this just another shiny tool promising everything? I signed up anyway, tossed my last Eventbrite event into the trash, and began crafting my next gathering on Maoney.
How Maoney Changed Everything
When I clicked “Create Event” on Maoney, I felt that same thrill without the dread that followed. Here’s how Maoney flipped the script for me:
1. Hosting Fees Disappeared
Maoney let me set up my record swap, my book swap, and even a small yoga class for neighbors, all at zero cost. They added a small processing fee only when I sell paid tickets, and it is paid for by the attendees. I see the fees transparently and no longer brace myself for a surprise deduction.
2. Instant Payouts
No more waiting for days after the event. Maoney transfers my revenue as people buy tickets. I spend that money on last-minute decorations, split vendor deposits, and even grab a round of coffees for my volunteers right when I need it.
3. Built-In Group Chats
Before Maoney, I had to export a guest list, import it to my email, and pray people checked their inboxes. Now, every event has an event feed and chat features where I can drop a “Hey, who’s bringing extra cables for the turntable?” two days before the swap, and people jump in with offers. During the event, guests post vinyl finds. Afterward, they share photos of the best rare records. Those chat logs keep me planning connections for next time, no extra apps required.
4. Hyperlocal Discovery
I hosted a summer film screening for indie shorts in my neighborhood. With Maoney, that event showed up in the feed of people within two miles of my building who tagged themselves “film buffs” or “local culture.” I didn’t have to spend hours tweaking SEO keywords or boost a post on social media. I knew my audience lived down the block.
Real Numbers, Real Impact
I’ll show you how the math changed:
Eventbrite cut $285 from my $1,500 record swap, leaving me with $1215.
With Maoney, I sold 100 tickets at $15 each. The platform added a small fee for attendees, so they paid $16.50 per ticket. I got my full $1,500; every cent.
That’s a gain of $285, enough to buy a new mixer or invest in a collaboration with a local artist. Beyond the dollars, I stopped worrying about balancing spreadsheets. I started focusing on the moments: the collective gasp when someone discovered a rare pressing, the laughter over mismatched socks at my book swap, the shared silence during our outdoor film.
Maoney’s Philosophy: Community Over Clicks
Other platforms treat events like transactions: click here, pay there, goodbye. Maoney treats events like living things that grow and breathe. You’re not just moving tickets. You’re curating energy, hosting moments that matter, and weaving a story into your neighborhood’s fabric.
Every event becomes a story. Negotiating fees on Eventbrite felt like handing over a chapter to a ghostwriter. On Maoney, I write every page.
Every attendee becomes a character. Messy spreadsheets on old platforms flatten human connection. Maoney honors attendees as real people; friends I haven’t met yet.
Every chat builds continuity. I catch myself scrolling through old group messages just to relive the energy and plan the next one.
Make the Switch Today
Eventbrite and Meetup linger in the past, demanding fees and forcing you to navigate a maze just to say “hi” to your guests. Maoney builds the future: a place where your creative spark doesn’t fight red tape.
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