Auction Fever
Some people love to shop. There are countless jokes and stories of women shopping. We shop because we need to make purchases, but for many of us it goes beyond need and becomes a hobby, a pleasant pastime, and sometimes to a point an obsession. Really, how many pairs of shoes does a person need? and you know who I am talking about. or books, although I could probably make a case for that one.
Some people shop for stress relief, to some it is only a stress. I had a friend who would shop and then a day or two later, return most of the stuff. I usually don’t get to the checkout before I put stuff from my cart back to its home.
My downfall is the auction. I love auctions! I can remember with pleasure specific auctions where I have made purchases that sit in my home like my grandmother’s estate auction where I bought my dining room table. It was her older table from her basement that she used for crafts. (I could not afford her oak one from upstairs). When she asked me what I had purchased that day, and I told her, she smiled and said that was the first table she and Pop-pop had purchased when they got married, at a sale in the early 1900’s, and that it was old then. What a treasure.
I think the draw of an auction for me is just that. What kind of treasure will I find? What kind of bargain can I make? Then of course is the adrenalin rush of bidding. How high should I go? Will the opposing bidder pay more? There is definitely an accelerated heartbeat, a flush of victory over a purchase that is not found in a department store.
The best type of auction for me is a livestock auction. Maybe my husband would say the worst. While at estate auctions I have seen people get carried away bidding on “mystery” boxes, accruing more junk than treasure, I can rarely go to an auction of animals without adding to my menagerie. In addition to the excitement of bidding, add the live animal aspect of the purchase. Even though your eyes can see what you are buying, there is always an element of surprise when you get the purchase.


All
I can say is that my husband is an understanding man. He still lets me
go to auctions. Of course I make sure and tell him how good he has it,
by comparing me to the two ladies that sat in front of us. They were
buying chickens, and turkeys, and ducklings, again and again. I lost
count of how many, but they had so many boxes that they had to take some
to their car because there was no more room for them, stacked beside
them and along the ring side in front of them. Amanda asked where they
were going to put all those chickens because she overheard them remark
they didn’t even have a chicken coop. The one lady said she guesses the
peeps would have to come in the bedroom with her.
At least my husband does not have to share our bedroom with any of my purchases.