The One About the Bachelor Auction

I got a phone call from R, a cute (and smart, and stable, and
gainfully employed – way different from most of my usual dates) boy
that I’d been on one date with and was patiently awaiting the next. He
informed me that he would be participating in a Bachelor Auction for a
children’s charity that evening, and it’d be nice if I would be able
attend.

 

I know that in that situation, a guy could be preying on girls he
knows like him and using them to get his bid (and ego) up – oh yes,
I’m totally aware. However, I don’t care. I jumped at the opportunity
and told him “Oh, maybe – I’ll see if I can make it out” (hard to
get-ish, you see what I did there?), and called a friend to accompany
me on this emergency excursion.

 

I wasn’t sure what to expect, having never been to a Bachelor or
Bachelorette Auction. The only thing I could relate it to in my head
were the multiple episodes of Arrested Development that had Charity
Auctions in them. It’s fancy and classy, then somebody bids TEN
THOUSAND DOLLARS! … I was not quite ready to bid that much, but
decided to give it a go. I ran home, changed into something adorable,
and headed out to the bar where the auction was to be held.

 

When we arrived at the bar, there were already some girls assembling
as well as several sharply dressed men wandering around, mingling. Ah,
the bachelors. I zeroed in on my intended bachelor and said hello – he
gave me a hug and we chit chatted as I sipped my confidence-building
rum & coke. Eventually, the bachelors began to walk around and
introduce themselves and try to charm the socks off of (and eventually
the funds out of) the ladies at the bar. Some of the bachelors were
very attractive, and a few looked like they had gotten listed by maybe
knowing one of the organizers. I found that I knew another of the
bachelors, the son of my CPA – he was one of the more attractive as
well. I pinned him as my alternate bid, if R didn’t end up working
out. A few of the others were very friendly and sweet, and some were
terribly off-putting. One memorable bachelor jokingly told us, to keep
us from bidding on his friend standing next to him, that his friend
had AIDS. So… awkward. Said friend apologized for weird bachelor as
soon as he walked away. Friend turned out to be pretty charming,
actually, and assured us that he was HIV negative. I noted to myself
that he might be one to bid on as well.

 

Finally, the auction began. My friend and I grabbed the only available
table that was left in the bar, a small table right in front of the
stage. Whatever. I wasn’t scared. I was already 2 bravery-tonics into
the game. As we settled, I looked around. Seated at the other tables,
the other girls were giggling, sipping their martinis, like they were
playing Sex & The City (ps it only takes about 1.5 drinks for me to
start to get super-judgy). The DJ was starting to “spin” (as the kids
call it), and the MC was getting ready to take the stage and start the
auction. I was playing it cool, keeping calm, downing those rum &
cokes.

 

When it seemed we’d been waiting for hours, the MC finally took the
stage. Though I can’t remember her name, she was some local
personality that I had never heard of… she was fun, though. She
outlined the setup: the bachelors were behind a curtain. One at a
time, they would take the stage and tell us about themselves. After
the bidding was complete for each bachelor, there would be a song
played by DJ Whats-his-name and a shot special would be announced.
I was ready.

 

The first few bachelors went by slowly – nobody quite knew what was
going on, and the bidding was slow and low. I was feeling confident in
my quest to nab one of my conquests. The first of my targets to come
up was bachelor number 3, the one who DIDN’T have AIDS. He was sweet
and cute, but I could not bid on him, as my prime target hadn’t been
on stage yet. He “sold” for just over $100, and I felt good that I had
dedicated (in my head) a potential $200 to my goal, free and easy. It
would be going to charity anyway, so I could feel ok about my
“donation.” The word “prostitution” danced around the fringe of my
mind, but I tried to ignore that…

 

A few bachelors later, and my main target, R, arrived on-stage. As the
bidding raised then started to stall out, I raised my hand casually,
keeping my elbow on the table, with the best and coolest move I could
remember from any tv show or movie where I had seen bidding occur. The
MC saw me and I was thrilled when she called the bid and said I was
sneaking up on everyone. She called me “the dark horse.” This made me
happy. It gave me confidence… maybe that was still because of the
rum, but whatever. I was immediately outbid, which I was ok with
because it gave me the opportunity to be super-cool with the bidding
again. It quickly became uncool, as those bitches kept outbidding me.
Didn’t they see that I wanted this guy? Ugh. As I neared my spending
limit, my friend said she’d add $50 to my fund. Good. I bid again.
Turns out, it didn’t matter… R ended up going for $350. Too rich for
my blood, assuming I wanted to buy groceries that month.

 

I still had hopes for my backup choice, the CPA’s son. He was the last
to be auctioned, and was sold for $700. The MC, as a charity move,
sold a second date with him for $300 to a second girl who was whining
that she lost because it was her birthday. I guess I know which angle
to take next time – BUT IT’S MY BIRFDAY 🙁

 

I was sad for my loss, but a little tipsy so maybe not as sad as I
could have been. But also, I was the one that R was texting as the
evening wrapped up…

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