Lee Geiger

“Let’s start the bidding at $100. Who’ll bid a hundred?”

For those not in the know, I was an auctioneer in a previous life, and for the last eight years I’ve conducted charity auctions on the side as a way to stay off the mean streets of Moraga on Saturday nights. Last weekend, Sam Patti, my auction partner-in-crime, and I were doing the fundraising hustle for a prestigious school located in the Caribbean. That’s the Caribbean…as in 4000 miles and 16 fun-filled hours of travel from San Francisco. Sam and I may remind our audiences of those two old farts on the Muppets, but we’re pretty good.

“I’ve got $500. Now six. Who’ll bid six hundred?”

Of the twelve items offered for sale in tonight’s live auction, nine are class projects, each unique in their artistry and workmanship. The first eight, painstakingly crafted by elementary and middle school students, sold for an average of $2,000, with a range from $200 to $5,000. Tonight’s bidding is highly competitive, and the only thing rising faster than the prices are the attendee’s blood alcohol levels. The last class project, a beautiful, alluring painting of three Egyptian women created by a high school student, would look great in any living room. That being said, Corollary #27 of Geiger Auction Theory historically suggests “the older the kid, the lower the bid.” My ample gut says the painting will sell for a grand. Tops.

“One Thousand Dollars! YES! That’s how we do it. Now eleven. Who’ll bid eleven hundred? 

Folks who call the Caribbean home like to portray themselves as laid-back islanders immune to the excessive accoutrements of life. That may be true for 364 days of the year, but not tonight. These parents are committed to enriching the educational experiences of their children, and one way to show that commitment is contribute their time and money to the annual auction. And their jewelry. Tonight’s soiree is considered one of the premier social events in the Caribbean, and there’s enough bling in the room to buy Argentina. 

“Two Thousand Dollars! Are you kidding me? It’s time to ratchet up the increments, boys and girls. Who’ll give me twenty-two and a half?”

A Jimmy Buffet-wannabe, wearing a blue sports jacket over his yellow silk Tommy Bahama shirt unbuttoned halfway down to his navel, has driven the bidding to this point. Standing casually in the back of the cavernous ballroom, he bids $2,250, and his main competitor, a glamorous olive-skinned woman sitting cross-legged at a table wearing a pair of dangling diamond earrings that cost more than my house, has decided to throw in the towel. My next prompt for a bid of $2,500 appears to be for naught. “Going once,” I bark, the last shred of my larynx hanging on for dear life. “Going twice.” Just as I’m about to bring down the hammer, the only man in the room brave enough to wear blue jeans raises his program for the very first time. “$2,500!” I wail, the sudden reversal of fortune causing me to pull a muscle in my back. “You’ll never get that close again.” The bidding rolls on.

“Six Thousand Dollars! And now seven. Seven Thousand to you, sir.”

Corollary Numero Uno of Geiger Auction Theory says never to be surprised at anything that happens during an auction. Corollary #2 says the bidding can get out of control when two Type-A alpha males, fueled by enough booze to light the Superdome, are bidding on the same item. To them, it’s not about the money; it’s about the winning. Pointing directly at a bidder while asking for $7,000, he doesn’t even bother raising his program. Instead, he holds up ten fingers. The room of 560 inebriants explodes. Outright pandemonium replaced proper decorum four thousand dollars ago.

“TEN…THOUSAND…DOLLARS! Can you believe it? I can’t. And now twelve and a half.”

“Don’t Stop the Carnival” is a 1965 novel penned by American writer Herman Wouk. It is a comedy about a middle-aged New York City press agent, caught in the grip of a midlife crisis, who leaves the noise and nonsense of the big city and runs away to a mythical Caribbean island, a tropical heaven that quickly turns into a living hell. Though I’ve been in the Caribbean less than 72 hours, based on the labyrinth of drama, mystery, romance and political intrigue associated with the auction, it’s become clear to me that people who come to the island seeking fame, fortune, redemption or reinvention are all a little, shall I say this, unique. Every person I’ve met on this island has a story to tell, and I want to hear every one.

Mr. Blue Jeans decides it’s time to get serious. And why not. It turns out his daughter painted this beautiful piece of artwork. He holds up two fingers and nods. The bid is $20,000.

Going once…Going twice…SOLD!!!  

Corollary #99 of Geiger Auction Theory: I love the Caribbean.