The more silent auctions I attend the more I realize they are an extraordinary study in human behavior.
Sunday the New York Mills Regional Cultural Center held its annual garden party and silent auction fundraiser. Its a nice spring social event which raises money to help fund Cultural Center activities. Plus, theres some pretty cool stuff to bid on. Sure, no fishing trips, 4-wheeler adventures or pontoon parties like at the Lions Auction but some nice items, nonetheless.
Incidentally, the New York Mills Lions club held its annual auction Saturday night and raised over $11,000 - money which will be pumped directly back into the community. Nice job everyone.
Sundays event at the Cultural Center started out innocent enough for the crowd, as it normally does. Some refreshing punch and wine, hors de vours, mingling and perusing over things to bid on.
It began as an innocent social gathering, but as the bidding heated up and the window of opportunity narrowed the claws came off and I got bullied.
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The silent auction is an entirely different animal than the traditional auction. Theres no fast talking, subtle head nods and nose twitches, and a guy can see who he is bidding against.
Sunday I was up against a silent enemy. I had my sights set on this adorable little summer dress with hand-embroidered flowers and colorful designs. I bid on it, someone else came along and upped my bid, I re-bid, she went over the top again and so forth and so forth. Up to that point it was a friendly bidding volley, kind of like a badminton game in the back yard at a family picnic.
But when the announcement was made only 10 minutes left and I met the eyes of my adversary and saw a look almost that of a rabid dog. I had a decision to make: (A) bid on the dress again and continue the one-on-one battle to the end, or (B) do I value my life more than a little dress and bow out before things got ugly?
I assessed the situation and realized I was bidding against a determined grandmother... a grandma who was carrying a crutch. After she saw me write down what turned out to be my final bid she stared me down and started with the trash-talking to intimidate me, no doubt. It worked. I wasnt about to lock horns with a crutch-wielding grandma who made it clear she was not leaving without that dress in her arms.
After she backed me down I knew there was still a couple minutes remaining before bidding closed at the top of the hour. I thought I could sneak around a table and swoop in the final seconds for a stealth attack on the bidding sheet. I couldnt get through. Not only did she guard the item with her crutch she brought in an ally- the two pretending to carry on a casual conversation but really guarding the dress like a couple of jackals over a fresh kill.
I knew my only chance at that point was to either crawl under the table and mark my bid while she was distracted and without her seeing me. Or take a run at it from across the room with only 10 seconds remaining, dive over the table and write my bid down in mid air as the time expired before crashing to the ground and taking out the artichoke dip, multi-grain crackers and vegetable tray.
She won this time, but I live to fight another day. Ill be back next year... more experienced, more focused and with a better battlefield plan. Dont kid yourself. Trying to outbid a crutch-carrying grandma on a little girls dress is a battle.
At least I went home with a flowering cactus which will be dead in a week.
