Auctions are such interesting social gatherings. You see older men with their ball caps on, women with their purses clutched tightly to their bodies, young guys with piercings and then the group I belong in, the middle age women who follow blogs with dreams of fulfilling their calling by selling treasured junk.
The auctioneer begins by working the energy in the crowd up. He touts the greatness of the raised item whether it is a box of old wallpaper or a chipped plate. Each item’s virtue is magnified ten fold. He makes you want it. He makes you have to have it. Before you know it you have flashed your card with your number once twice omigosh three times. Sometimes you hear what number the auctioneer is calling. Other times you are caught up in the frenzy of competition bidding and suddenly you won, (my husband says it isn’t winning…ha) and then you realize you have overbid where you wanted to stop. Then determined you bid the next time with less abandon. But you don’t win the item. So back you bid with the thought you are going to get the item this time. Oh the adrenaline rush!
I so love auctions. Almost as much as creating and reselling my wins.