Getting up to auction speed
Shoppers began arriving at 9 a.m. to inspect the merchandise. By the time bidding started at 11 a.m., it was standing room only. The early risers had parked themselves on all the office chairs and couches that would soon be sold.
Each attendant registered for the auction by presenting a business card or driver's license and a US$300 deposit on a credit card. Throughout the morning, the line snaked out the door as newcomers tried to get in on the bidding.
The auctioneer intended to get through 100 items per hour but ended up averaging only 60: He had to administer a crash course in bidding for newbies, which slowed down the auction. (Several veterans commented that the swift-talking Charyn seemed a bit slower in his auctioneering banter.)
Seasoned bidders are loath to shout out their bids or place a bid other than what the auctioneer calls. Instead, they casually lift their numbered placard if they're willing to pay the current price. Some tilt their placard or subtly wave a hand at half-staff to entice the auctioneer to cut the increments and slow the price escalation.
But such nuances were lost on first-timers--those who didn't understand the fast-talking auctioneer and yelled out "huh?" and "what?" Cell phones trilled, pagers beeped and one man knocked over a cluster of desk lamps.
One woman raised hackles by continually shouting her price. When the bidding reached US$50 for a metal, four-door file cabinet, Charyn upped the ante to US$100.
"Sixty!" she yelled. The bidding soon passed US$100, then settled at US$150.
"Sixty!" the woman yelled again.
"Listen to my increments, ma'am!" Charyn scolded. "We're bidding on my increments, not yours." She soon left, bereft of purchases.
