MICKI BARE Advertisement

Spring Saturdays are perfect for working in the yard, washing the car and saving money. Many folks pinch pennies by shopping the yard sales and flea markets. Hubby and I recently tried our hand bidding for deals at a nearby estate auction.

I wasn't quite sure how the estate auction worked, so after reading the sign posted in our neighborhood for the hundredth time, I finally went online and checked out the details. The date, time and lots of photos of available items were posted. The terms, which I didn't quite understand, were also listed on the website.

Knowledge is power, so I called the auction company and asked for clarification. Feeling confident that I understood the process, I announced to Hubby that we were going to attend the estate auction at 9 a.m. on Saturday morning, and that I was bidding on a roll top desk.

I already have a beautiful, Queen Ann-style writer's desk in my office thanks to a great find on Craigslist. So, Hubby asked the obvious question, "Where exactly is this roll top desk going should you be successful at the auction?" I explained that I had a plan for rearranging my office and that it would fit just fine. I also promised not to bid above $100.

On Friday evening, trucks pulled in and tables were set up along the driveway at the estate auction location. I panicked. "We have to go now and find out what's going on! I don't want someone to walk by and purchase the desk before the auction!" Hubby followed me out the door and we briskly walked over to the house.

Boldly interrupting the person who appeared in charge, I asked if they were allowing people to purchase items before the auction. The kind woman reassured me that everything would still be there at 9 a.m. and then urged Hubby and me to go inside and check out the furniture. Of course, I headed straight to the bedroom to find the desk.

Meanwhile, Hubby became distracted by a box of tools. He recently received some manly, build-and-fix-stuff tools from Dad for his birthday, so he was eager to add to his collection. By the time he caught up with me, I had opened every drawer and rolled the top up and down twice. I wanted the desk. I was willing to pay up to $125 for it.

The next morning, we headed back down the street and around the corner to experience our first estate auction. We registered and got our number, then stood back to watch others in the crowd bid on a few boxes of whatnots. We needed to observe and get a feel for the process.

Soon the tool box was up for bid. The auctioneer asked for a bid of $20. I raised our number and nodded yes. Rookie mistake. We did get the tool box and assorted tools for $20, however, we soon learned that the auctioneer would come down if no one agreed to his opening bid suggestion. We also learned that we could yell out a lower bid and that the auctioneer would start with what we offered, soliciting higher bids from there.

Meanwhile, Hubby didn't really care. He got some great tools and a sturdy tool box for a great price. Before the furniture was auctioned, we had also purchased a box of glassware, some costume jewelry and a couple of walking canes. Feeling ready to win my desk, we moved into the house and waited.

I was ready to blurt out an offer of $50 for the desk, feeling like that would give me plenty of wiggle room and a chance at getting it for $125 or less. My stomach flipped and my knees grew weak as the auctioneer made his way into the bedroom and began describing the desk. What happened next was nothing less than a miracle.

He asked who would offer $50 for the desk. My mouth went dry and my head and arm became paralyzed. My heart began to race. I willed myself to pull it together. The auctioneer then asked for a $20 bid. I nodded and raised my number. I held my breath and I waited. No one else spoke. No one nodded. Nothing.

"SOLD! for $20!" yelled the auctioneer. Hubby and I stood there in disbelief as the assistant wrote my bidder number on the desk with her chalk.

We saved so much on the desk, that we also scored a giant, green man-couch for Hubby's man-room after a bidding war that pushed the price up to $40. The bidding war was every bit as exhilarating as winning the $20 bid on the desk. We are now hooked.

Hubby did put his foot down, however, declaring, "No more desks!" But my newly rearranged office could use a frilly, 1900's-style floor lamp.

Micki Bare is a columnist for the Arkansas News Bureau and the Courier-Tribune in Asheboro, N.C., and author of the book, "Relative Expressions." She lives in Asheboro with her husband and three children. Her e-mail address is mickibare@inspiredscribe.com.