The same rush I always feel before an auction fills me. The intense focus that drowns out anything but the desire to get as much as I can for each piece, and the anticipation of the resulting euphoria of getting a price better than I imagined.
I’ve felt it since I was a kid, when I would hold auctions in our living room to practice. I could always get Mom to bid higher, but Dad was a tougher sell. Luckily I discovered his weakness: Mom. One sad look from me to her, then one stern look from her to him, and he bid higher.
I keep waiting for the rush to not be there one day when I first raise the gavel, but it hasn’t faded in all these years.
I yell into the microphone, “Hello, New York! Let’s give a round of applause for your first auctioneer.” A weak round of applause goes up in the room and I push through. “We’re here to do the second half of the auction, donated from Loot and Carlyle’s, your friendly neighborhood auction houses. Now I see some familiar faces in the crowd.” I do a slow sweep over the crowd, eyes squinting. “So I know those pockets are deep. And so are those hearts, huh?”
That gets a little bit of a laugh.
“What lot are we doing first?” I exaggerate looking behind me to the podium where the watch is resting. “Ah. This exquisite, limited edition Rolex. Where should we start this?” I ask Gavin, who somehow got a microphone while I was doing introductions.
Gavin considers. “I say you should open the bidding at ten thousand dollars.”
I give him a nod of acknowledgement for a very good opening bid for a watch of its name and quality, Gavin once again proving he’s just as good as me at this job. I turn back to the crowd.
“The man has spoken. Who’ll give me ten thousand? For charity.” I raise my arms, inviting the bids.
I see a paddle raised. “The beautiful woman in the front will give me ten. Who’ll give me eleven?”
“Eleven. Who will give me twelve?”
A woman with a clipboard marches toward the stage, her pace fast and determined. That must be the organizer trying to figure out why we’re on stage. And who we are.
I see a raised paddle and move toward that direction. “Twelve? Who wants to get in on this for such a steal? The dapper man in the back wants in at twelve. Thirteen?”
“Thirteen,” a man yells from stage right.
“An excited thirteen. Thank you. Ma’am, do you want to get back in here?”
The original bidder raises her paddle. “Fourteen!” I yell to the crowd.
The organizer slows as the bidding gets higher. She might not know why Gavin and I are on this stage, but we’re doing a lot better than the first guy she had up here. It’s really not his fault; auctioneering is an art.
I turn back to the other side of the room. “Thank you. Do I have fifteen?”
The crowd is quiet. “Last chance, I’m going to sell it.”
“Come on, I can get more than that if I sold this on eBay,” Gavin says.
“Ooooo...trash talked by the auctioneer.” I shake my head in shame, and see a paddle raised.
“Fifteen thousand. Ah, original bidder’s out. It’s okay, darling, we’ll find you something pretty tonight. Who’ll replace her at sixteen?”
Another paddle raised. “Yes! Sixteen. Now we’re getting to the good stuff. Now who wants to raise the stakes even higher? Who will give me seventeen?” Silence from the crowd. And the organizer takes a seat. She’s happy with the way the numbers are going, since we’ve already gotten more in one minute than the original auctioneer had for his entire first ten lots.
“I don’t know, Gavin. At that price I can take it home.” I move back to the podium so I can covet the shiny watch, fingers hovering over the item.
“Not if I outbid you first,” Gavin says, walking to the other side of the watch.
We see a paddle raised. “The lady in red has us both beaten at seventeen. Eighteen thousand?”
Another paddle raised. “Eighteen. Does anyone want to end this strong at nineteen?”
“Twenty thousand!” a woman in red yells, jumping up in excitement.
“Twenty thousand it is. I love your enthusiasm and your dress. Do I have twenty-one?” Silence, but I have everyone’s attention.
“Sold at twenty thousand dollars!” I slam my hand down on the podium, since they don’t have a gavel for me to dramatically end the auction with. “Someone bring me the next lot!”
