Catalogued Auction

Today's is a catalogued auction, the best kind, for a variety of reasons.

First, everything in the auction has a higher value than regular or "junk" auctions. It has to, in order to justify the labor and expense of giving it a number and description, printing out a catalogue, and putting a photo of it on line. We do this for our Antique and Collectibles month-end auctions, and specialty auctions such as the three we held for the 2300 piece Shawnee collection. It's more fun watching the bidding go up and up on some items, unless of course, it's stuff I wanted myself.

Second, we can tell when something is likely to be sold, since we go in number order. Doug's goal is 100 items an hour. We start promptly at noon, Doug's time, which means 12:10 everybody else's time, so a rough estimate based on item number will tell you that since you want item 43, if you also want to step out for lunch just before the auction gets going, it had better be a mighty quick lunch. If we're at item 146 and you're interested in 152, better postpone that bathroom or cigarette break. Today we have some 460 items, so it'll be long and the rear will be sore by the end.

Third, the number tag also comes with a description, so you know if that piece of carnival glass is Fenton, Imperial, or unidentified by maker. You can distinguish between two similar items, knowing that toy truck #57 is one you want more then #235 and will pay a higher price for. You can mark the heck out of your catalogue, making advance notes on the items to buy and not to buy, how much they're worth to you, and what you paid in the end for each. In other words, you know when you've blown the budget, or that you need not to until after item 369 goes by.

All this is easier for the customers, including me. What makes a catalogued auction easier for me alone is my job is much simpler when the consignor number and item description are already typed into the grid in front of me. We almost never have a single consignor for any given auction. Multiple sources mean variety of product, making wider range of appeal to more customers. But every consignor has to be paid for their own items, skipping none nor getting paid for someone else's. Each is assigned a number. I'm #34, whether it's brought in for today's auction or it came through last year. We skip around a lot, so in a regular auction we might sell 10 items from Marie, two from Nancy, one from Gary, ten from Doug, one from Gary, three from Marie, and so on. Somebody has to tell me a number before each item sold. Sometimes I have to stop the auction in order to get that number. Doesn't look good, except maybe to consignors who want to be paid accurately.

When the item description is already typed in, not only does it mean I don't have to, it prevents mistakes. Typos, mostly, but there are times I can't actually see the item being sold, and the verbal description is a bit lacking because everybody else in the room can see the item. Again, I have to stop Doug and ask him what we're actually selling. No way that looks good either. And if you only hear "capo di monte", how can you tell whether you're spelling it right? Is it "Sawzall?" "Saws All?" Or something completely different?

When all that is already settled, I just need to pay attention to the price and buyer number. This gives me time to watch the room during the bidding. It's better for Doug, because occasionally I can see a bidder who's not in his line of sight before he declares something sold. It's better for me because it's more fun. I get to people watch.

When I have a face to go with the name of the winning bidder that pops up on the screen as soon as their number is entered, I learn who the customers are. Next time Mrs. W comes in the door, I can greet her by name. I also learn that she's the one who buys household item and toys and games for her grandson, who also comes occasionally, along with his dad, the younger Mr. W. I learn that Barb buys antique furniture that needs refinishing, that the F. sisters buy the same kinds of glassware I like but have a much bigger budget, that Christine buys DVDs and music discs, willing to outbid nearly everybody every time, and has now started collecting books as well. I know Jack buys tools and Mrs. Jack likes a certain kind of decorative item, and that Curt buys a lot of new-in-the-box items just to give away to folks in need. Mr. O buys marbles and Mrs. O likes coins of a certain type, but Bill and Dwayne often outbid her for the coins because they're more serious about it.

It's not just about the buying. I learn about families. Woody used to come in with his daughter(s), but that was when auction were in the evenings. Now the daughters work on Saturdays. They might pop in before work and tell Dad what they want, and he'll sit there and bid for them and for stuff for the rest of the family. Shannon comes in with her mother. If there are tools, her father will be there too. Her husband has attended twice, but not for over a year. When I first started, Shannon was pregnant. After a bit, she started bringing in this adorable little boy in his carrier. Then he started going between Mom's and Grandma's laps. Now he walks around and one of them is always chasing him or feeding him, and sometimes taking him outside to stretch his legs. Oscar always comes late, a couple of hours after the auction starts, and brings his daughter, a quiet cutie who looks about 8, but who isn't too shy to come up front and pick a "choice" item off the front table after their winning bid.

I also get to watch what's going on behind the bidding. One bidder will "hide in the weeds", waiting until bidding reaches a certain level before jumping in. Another will put her card up and get mad at being ignored, but in watching the bidding she's never still in it at the end anyway. Once the price goes over her head, she relaxes again, but occasionally Doug - who also sees her - throws a comment her way that he actually does see her. Still, they both know that she's only going to go so high, and rarely goes home with much. She will occasionally score. She must be OK on the whole with the system. She keeps coming back.

But I have an hour now before I have to show up today. That's about perfect for a shower, getting dressed, collecting pop, cough drops and a few chocolates to nibble on, and driving over there. There are two "must-have" items today, and 5 I'm selling. The most expensive one I'm selling will tell me just how "must-have" those "must-haves" really are, or whether I'm just going to let them go. But however it turns out, it's going to be fun.

It always is.


* * * * *

Afterword:

The auction was packed, setting a record for number of attendees. That's always good news for sellers, and today was no exception for me. My items pulled in several hundred more than my cross-your-fingers-and-hope bottom line, and my two must-haves are sitting on the kitchen table, at less than what I was resolved to pay if necessary. (The F sisters were late, arriving after I won both.) While it went extra-long, Doug was pleased enough with the results that he took the crew out to a local Chinese buffet for supper. I didn't get home until after 9:00.

Steve was finally well enough, after his pneumonia, to come and work today, minding the coins while potential bidders examined them and handing them out to the floor staff in the order of their sale. He was, however, too tired afterwords to do anything but go home and crawl back in bed.

Never Boring

There is much to like about my Saturday job clerking at the auction house. It’s done sitting down, so there’s no wear and tear on my knees. It’s only 5 miles from home, so it’s a vacation from driving, and after 25 years of 70-80,000 miles a year, I can appreciate that even though I still like driving. Nepotism is a de facto company policy, making us all much like a single extended family. Many of us gather socially away from work. There’s always something to learn, something to buy, friendly people to greet, and sometimes the very demanding job of trying to keep up with the auctioneer when he’s on a push to finish. All those things keep it interesting. But when I say it’s never boring, I never thought that would mean a day quite like yesterday. Yesterday we lost two employees, for very different reasons.

The first one I heard about at the after-auction employees meeting. This is where we go over the good and the bad of the auction, give opinions, complaints, thanks and kudos as appropriate, all with an end to making the next auction smoother and more professional. While waiting for everyone to finish their post-auction cigarettes so we could begin, one of our members, whom I’ll call “M”, filled in Doug, our boss, of the actual circumstances behind one young fellow’s leaving. I’ll call him “T”. "T" had informed Doug just before the start of the auction that he had a new job waiting for him starting later the upcoming week. “M” had had trouble keeping a straight face during the announcement, and now told us why. What “T” actually had was an interview, after calling about an ad in the paper. Some local farmer needs somebody to drive a large farm vehicle to spread chemicals over the fields. “T” hasn’t quite figured out yet that he’s not exactly in a position to get the job since he doesn’t happen to have a driver’s license! I believe “M” used some phrase like “dumb as a sack of hammers.” Nobody who’s worked with “T” at the auction house disagreed with that assessment.

The second employee leaving wasn’t due to a resignation but to a firing, and this isn’t something Doug does lightly. He’ll put up with a lot from some of us, at least in part because he can’t afford to pay any of us well.

It started with a comment I very likely heard during the auction but took no note of at the time since it was not directed at me. I have to concentrate on my clerking job, so that all the right people pay the right amounts for the right items. I have to be perfect. It escalated to a point where I became directly involved, though quite against my inclination. The two people involved I’ll call “Madame” and “Missy”, names picked solely for their respective ages.

Madame, like many of us, started out as a customer and graduated to employee. For the last several weeks I had heard only complaints about her work from different people, including Doug. But I repeat, Doug hates to fire people. I had not much opinion on the issue, since I’m only there on Saturdays, unless I pop in during the week to see what’s upcoming in merchandise. I did however have opportunities to listen to Madame talk about a variety of things before and after auctions, and was becoming uncomfortable with the difference in our ethical standards on a particular issue. She frankly thought that everybody did _____ but simply lied about doing it, so why shouldn’t she do it also? Furthermore, since she was at least honest about doing it, she was actually more virtuous than everybody else. Personally, I haven’t done _____ since childhood, and would have trouble sleeping well if I did. My parents taught me well on that topic. I became wary of Madame.

Missy, the younger member of a family who works at the auction pretty much en masse, earns college money while still in high school. What I do observe tells me she is bright, works hard most of the time, and adheres to standards I can appreciate. While mature for her age, she is also still a kid. As you can probably tell, knowing nothing of the dispute ahead of time, I’m already prepared to take a side, though I’ll keep an open mind.

Madame presents the issue to Doug at the meeting as her having been disrespected during the auction, in front of the customers, by Missy. Madame’s concern, of course, is that this behavior makes Missy look bad. Customers have complained.

Missy asks what she said that was disrespectful and when?

Apparently, at one point Missy saw Madame holding an item up for the customers to view while bidding on it, thought it needed to be held higher, and told Madame so. No frills of politeness, no abusive language, just, “Hold it higher.” Missy defended her comment saying it needed to be said. People don’t buy what they can’t see.

At this point, I figured it was all over. Both made their points, both might have learned something. But Madame just wouldn't let it drop, as if she absolutely needed to win, to put Missy in her place. She kept pushing the issue.

Missy then asked which customers complained? Madame couldn’t remember any of their names. Since by far most of our customers are regular repeat customers, and often addressed by name by Doug during the auction, most of us learn many of their names. We greet them as they walk in by name. We know about their families, and they about ours. These would be the customers who would feel comfortable enough with staff that they might make a comment during the auction. Missy called her on it, saying if she couldn’t come up with any names, she must have been making that part up.

Madame, at this point, threw her cup of coffee at Missy.

Well, she tried, anyway. Between the two of them were the front counter, the desk, about ten feet of floor space... and me. I was sitting patiently waiting for the two of them to settle their issues like adults, and suddenly I’m all wet: hair, glasses, face, clothes. Missy brings me the paper towels I ask for, and after I try to dab everything dry, I continue with the desk, the notepad, the picture frame, the pen holder, whatever else has been nailed.

Meanwhile Missy’s mom goes straight out around the counter at gets in Madame’s face. The action is not limited to verbal exchanges at this point, but the two of them lock hands and are pushing back and forth as I take a second from mopping up to see what’s happening. Missy’s mom said later that Madame was trying to bend her thumbs in directions they weren’t meant to go in. In other words, it wasn't just defensive, stay-away-from-me mode, it was full attack, I-want-to-hurt-you. Mom squeezed back, and thinks she heard something crack in Madame’s hand.

All this takes maybe ten seconds, long enough for Doug to recover from the shock of it and put in his two cents’ worth. “Madame, you have to leave this building. Go. Get out of here now.” There was also the standard bit about her behavior was inappropriate, he couldn’t have unstable people working for him, and she was fired - all said to her back, either as or after she left. I didn't see exactly. I was still kinda busy. He did send two of the other employees after her to make sure she actually left. She had.

Now Missy’s dad comes out from the back room, loudly announcing he’s ready to punch Madame, even if he sees her on the street in the next weeks. It doesn’t matter if he has to go to jail for it! He threatens to call the police and have her charged with assault. Nobody assaults his family without him taking action! Nobody assaults his family’s friend without him taking action!

Oh gee, he means me. How sweet. Oh wait, no, not so sweet if he thinks he has to avenge me and it gets him in trouble! Don’t do it!

Do I need to say that the employee meeting was sidetracked from the auction for way more time than Madame deserves to have spent on her? “B” bemoaned he had no camcorder for the whole thing. Missy noted that all her siblings start to quickly back away from the action as Mom starts to raise her voice and head in Madame’s direction: they know that voice. Doug asked me if I want to make a comment? I note that he’s said she’s fired: that’s enough for me. I also note that a couple feet in another direction and the coffee would have gone all over the computer and cash register, with less than splendid results.

Eventually we get back to the meeting, get paid, and go our separate ways. Most of us will be back next Saturday, for the Antique and Collectors Auction.

I doubt it’ll be boring.