The Auction Olympics.
The acquisition troll is on her hamster wheel… churning away, wearing an 80’s style sweatband and leg warmers.
She was the one who suggested I go back, alone– the day after the auction previews, to two, separate auctions… and drive back and forth between the two in order to bid on items of questionable value… then run glassy-eyed to my car and drive back to the other auction while psychically-willing them to not have begun bidding on my next thing.
Paul thought that doing this once would cure me forever. But I guess he does not know me at all.
There were three. Or four. Or five. Or fifty-seven things I wanted to bid on. But the problem with auctions is that they can only give you an estimate of when the item will sell, and depending on any number of factors, you could be waiting a while.
Then, if you take two separate auction houses, each running multiple auctions, all with totally unpredictable and variable timetables… You really have yourself a party.
And my favorite type of party is where you are avoiding doing one thing, while thinking about another, while a separate segment of your brain is juggling flaming knives and encouraging you to run around in circles and then drive over to the other party where you will collect tokens of participation which hold no value but are still somehow meaningful.
You can avoid this problem by leaving an absentee bid on your item… But why would you want to miss out on the party?
Besides, I told myself that I am getting an auction education and that it is important that I have the full experience.
It is likely that this is also what meth addicts tell themselves: that they are mastering a skill.
The first item on my timetable was this enamel bin… it’s actually an old bread box. (I explained my enamel-issues in this post.)
This first auction has four separate auctions running at the same time: two inside, two outside.
One of the auctions outside was nice furniture.
The other outside auction seemed to be trash.
The trash auction made ABSOLUTELY NO SENSE to me…There was a large group of people, and they were all really excited about the trash. None of them seemed impatient or weirded out by their peer’s enthusiasm for mungy stuffed animals and plastic cups.
Plus, my expectation that they would auction off each box, and get on with it was wrong. Instead, it was just like there were no rules.
Sometimes they sold four boxes together. Sometimes they sold one dish at a time. After two hours I wanted to bang my head against the asphalt and scream – this is not the best way!
At that point, I considered abandoning my enamel-bin-of-treasure. But the acquisition troll denied the motion. She said – don’t you think you’ve had enough failure in life? We are getting that bin.
I pointed out that more importantly, we did not know what was going on at that other auction 7 miles away, and that was where the really vital item was: the bookcase… The acquisition troll said – you are right. Drive over there and see.
Hurry.
So I did.
In fact, it was SO MUCH FUN… I drove back and forth THREE times.
By 2 o’clock in the afternoon, I was numb.
Numb to crowds of people.
Numb to freezing.
Numb to noise.
Numb to considering running off with the attractive neck-tattooed man who was buying all of the Victorian furniture.
I really like neck tattoos. I like them visually, and I like what they say:
• I am comfortable making decisions without thinking things through.
• I might know Jax Teller.
Victory was finally mine in the form of the enamel bin… I paid $12.
I would have hustled right out of there, back to the other auction to bid on the bookcase. EXCEPT that the enamel bin was part of the trash auction and it was auctioned off along with a giant box of canes, some car window/snow scrapers, a couple of tire jacks, some rusty garden tools, and a dish drying rack.
I guess everyone bidding against me wanted the canes or tire jacks because I managed to sell them individually just by saying– does anyone want anything in this box?
I still have two canes, some garden tools, and the dish rack… if anyone is interested.
After holding my own impromptu box-sale, the enamel bin cost me nothing… I even made two dollars. But it ALMOST cost me the bookcase.
By the time I drove back over to the other auction, JUST as I was walking in, I could see that they were AUCTIONING OFF THE BOOKCASE THAT I WANTED.
I started running across the auction floor. Flailing my arms. Like an idiot.
I should explain that this particular auction is the only one I have been to so far where you could actually be confused about what you are bidding on.
Their system involves dragging the item to the middle of the floor… And then moving it progressively towards the loading dock… Even if people are still bidding on it.
Then they bring up the next item, front and center… WHILE THE OTHER ONE IS STILL ACTIVE.
Which is why I was thinking – wow, I am getting a really good deal on this bookcase! Until the guy next to me pointed at the blond, faux-wood, entertainment center being hauled off towards the loading dock… He said– do you know that is what you’re bidding on?
Then I had to flail my arms EXTRA idiotically.
The auctioneer was nice enough to not force me to buy it. Or mock me publicly. But there is nothing quite like standing in front of a large crowd who has just identified you as the dumbest person in the room.
Paul called me right after I won the bookcase… He said– hey, how’s it going?
I said– I ALMOST BOUGHT AN ENTERTAINMENT CENTER FROM 1983!
Paul was quiet. Then he said– should I leave work?
I said– no! Not at all! I HAVE EVERYTHING UNDER CONTROL!
February 25, 2015 @ 9:36 pm
OMGoodness ! So glad you did NOT “win”/get stuck with that blonde entertainment center from the 80’s ~ I’m sure I have seen that same item at a few auctions here..
Your new antique bookshelf is lovely 🙂 Congrats on acquiring the goodies. Watch it with the flailing arms; one of our first auctions, we saw some friends across the crowd as we entered the area. As we got closer I waved enthusiastically to catch their eye. The husband laughed and said, “You know the auctioneer just took your bid. Did you want to buy a horse today ?” I was so embarrassed ! Luckily it was a smaller Amish farm auction with a friendly crowd and after a good laugh, someone else raised the bid on the horse. ( I would’ve liked to buy a horse, but it wouldn’t fit in the van.)
February 25, 2015 @ 10:14 pm
Bonus future/insider knowledge: You can approach the auctioneer (or the minions who carry the stuff to the stage or front by the auctioneer) and request an item (or items) be brought up for auction. Most of the time, they are happy to accommodate you and you can get it all over in one swoop. They are REALLY happy to accommodate you if you then spend a lot of cashola buying them.
February 26, 2015 @ 12:16 am
I am just laughing at your box sale, I love that sort of spirit about auctions, one gals trash and all…
Well done on the cabinet.
February 26, 2015 @ 9:52 am
There is an auction house literally right down the street from my house. It’s a life goal to check it out sometime.
February 26, 2015 @ 10:04 am
Hey….my grandmother had that bread box!
February 26, 2015 @ 10:15 am
Definitely stay away from the Pandora’s box of absentee bidding. You can bid at any hour of the day or night on the Internet on things in faraway lands that have back stories that are enchanting, unforgettable, and irresistible to auction trolls and people with the raccoon-like love of all things glittery/shiny gene. Paul would not be happy.
February 26, 2015 @ 12:47 pm
What fun! But I have to admit to feeling for Paul.
February 26, 2015 @ 7:14 pm
Oh My Gosh. I almost went to that auction! I would have PAID $$ to witness that scene.
But. If you need a partner to bid for you. I am all in!!
Thanks for the laugh!
February 28, 2015 @ 11:18 am
You need a command center and staff. Arm them all with helmet cams and cell phones and you can bid on EVERYTHING!
March 4, 2015 @ 9:20 am
This is so funny. I have some funny stories about auctions too. I’ve gotten wiser as the years have gone by, but the early learning years were hysterical. Wouldn’t trade the experiences for anything! And I do wish I could have seen the flailing arms entrance – it’s what keeps auctions from putting you to sleep while waiting for your item’s bidding to come up!
March 7, 2015 @ 11:28 pm
“I almost bought an entertainment center from 1983!!!”
oh! oh god! how awful!
so…. so awful!
ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!
March 10, 2015 @ 12:37 pm
I love the way you write! What an amazing blog.
March 12, 2015 @ 3:52 pm
From one Victoria to another – I love your writing! Very funny and creative. Now to the point I want those Asian dolls. Now my have- to- have it OCD invisible person who lives in my head is driving me crazy. I am not convinced that I can’t find something similar, my computer is smoking!! I can’t stop looking. Thanks a lot Victoria!!
March 17, 2015 @ 7:06 am
Hope you won’ take this wrong but I feel like your blog has turned into what you would LIKE to do with your kitchen vs. what you will do. I have never seen a kitchen take this long, people build entire homes in the time its taking you to “complete” this kitchen. Its kind of getting old and I think you are losing some of your audience. I grew tired of reading month after month of your kitchen planning, just do it already. Just read this over at GOMI and realized I was not alone, just saying.
March 18, 2015 @ 10:32 am
Love your blog! We share the same thought processes. Lock your doors and find a witness protection program to join. 🙂
October 6, 2015 @ 3:24 pm
VEB, I love your blog! Can imagine you driving back & forth to the auctions, hunched over the steering wheel, honking the horn and shouting “Out of my way people! I have an auction to get to!”. I too have bid on something thinking it was something else entirely. I’m 5 ft tall and was at the back of the audience (Everyone standing, No seating at all!). Talking to the man next to me when the Auctioneer announced “Now, a nice gas oven. Who’ll start the bidding?” Oh, I want that for the house. Won the bid for $100 and thought, better check where they have taken the oven. It was a commercial gas pizza oven! Went over to the auctioneer, tugged on his pants leg (he was on a step ladder), “I’m sorry sir, but I bid on the wrong item.” He told me where to go (No! not that “where to go!”) and graciously let me return the gas oven. After taking care of the mix-up, I bid on the gas oven I did want and won it for $50!
Keep on the hunt for the next GFT. Warm thoughts to you and Elvis.
March 18, 2016 @ 5:58 pm
We have been blessed with patient husbands. I bought walkie talkies so that we can both be at different auctions at the same time. Now I am addicted to the Offer Up app. Look into that! If we lived near each other, I think we would be best friends! Shop on Lovie!