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The Date Auction

8/30/04

"Hey Justin, you're single...you should do our date auction!"

I did a spit take--those great moments in films where a character acts surprised by spitting out whatever beverage happens to be in their mouth--when my friend Mandy actually proposed that I give in to being bid on by other women.  The first thought that came to mind was back in middle school, when we used to have square dancing in gym class every so often (athletic endeavor?  I didn't think so), and girls would partner up with boys, and girls would pick most of the decent-looking boys before finally snatching me up.

Like most people, hearing the term "date auction" harkens back to anything that featured attractive 20-somethings being flaunted on-stage to a host of onlookers, and spectators yelling bids out for those particularly handsome gentlemen with the washboard abs.  Or, you're like me, and you remember that episode of "The Simpsons" where there was an auction in Springfield for the so-called hunky men in town...when Moe the Bartender parades across the stage (he of the hunchback posture and the face that reminds you of a Fraggle), the women give a collective sigh and pass on him altogether.

I'm at the point of my life where I don't really sweat my physical ego too much.  I think that I am fairly handsome, which is some parts self-assessment, some parts looks at the club, some parts the women I have dated over the last three or four years and some parts knowing where I have been.  See, the great thing about the present is that I distinctly remember the past; it wasn't long ago that no matter how many times my mom or my grandmother used to tell me otherwise, I was a gangly, not-so-good-looking teenager.  I like to pull out the picture every so often that I have from my eighth-grade year at Robert Frost Middle School in the Rockville area; I'm wearing this red-and-white sweatshirt that I thought was the shit, and there I am, big smile, bigger braces, biggest glasses money could buy.  I really do laugh out loud when I think about some of the women I asked to the dances of eighth and then ninth grade...the social stigma that those women would have faced if they had actually gone out with me would have been something they would have never overcome.

"Sally...you're going to the DANCE with him?  Are you nuts?"
"Jennifer...you said YES to Justin BELL???"
"Tina...I can still get you another date, you know..."

The past has made the present that much more fun...I'm still kind of new to the whole dating thing, at least in the scheme of life.  (I'm really new to the "I'm not an ugly bastard" phase, too.)  Really, I had only dated two people up until I was 24.  Confidence in my looks didn't really come around until maybe 26.  This is all important, because if Mandy had asked me to be in a date auction even three years ago, I would have probably bailed out.

But, that was then...this was funny.  I said yes, if anything else because the comedy behind being bought at an auction would be the stuff of barhopping storytelling lore.  I reviewed the facts:  yep, I'm single...yep, I'm free Saturday night.  As I toe the line between regular guy and Serial Monogamist, I decided after my most recent relationship ended that I was going to steer clear of commitment for a while, so this might be a good way to balance my recent video game junkie habits and my attempts to get back into the flirtforce.

So, Mandy set it up.  The auction was done as part of a fundraising party for Mandy's husband Wim and their friend Jon, as they are raising money for the AIDS Marathon later this year.  There were about a dozen of us that signed up to participate in the auction.  (By "participate", I mean "be bid on.")  Rather than go the route of the traditional date auction--parade the first victim across a stage while an MC spouts off each participant's likes and dislikes, turn-ons and turn-offs--ending with a throng of people yelling out bids for each person, Mandy decided on doing a silent auction.  This meant that folks would stuff a box with their final bid on a sheet of paper, with a minimum bid of $30 per person.  (Included in your bid, should you win, would be a $25 gift certificate from a local downtown restaurant, sufficiently increasing the bid's value.)

Personally, I was kind of hoping to be paraded across a stage, because for me, I think the funniest thing I could have hoped for was to go for an incredibly low bid amount, or even funnier, to not be bid on at all.  I would have survived the blast to my ego, because to not be bid on might be a really great essay.  But, it was not to be.

Mandy set up a board that had pictures and bios of all of the participants at the front of the restaurant where the auction was held.  About 75 people came out while I was there; for my money, this was the most handsome collection of 75 adults I have ever seen in person (outside of SoBe, that is) and this was a good thing, because deep down inside I think all of the biddees wanted to be bought be someone that was at least kind of attractive.  The night came and went with bids being stuffed at a moderate pace throughout the night, and about four hours later it was all over.

Let me pause for just a moment.  Have you ever been to a date auction?  Have you ever been bought?  Although I don't think it really hit me at the time, it was kind of nerve-wracking knowing that any of the women I met that night might be the one who eventually purchases the goods.  I was just trying to hang out and be my normal chill self, but it wasn't easy as I wondered, "Is this the girl that's going to buy me?  Is this the girl?"  So, I buckled under the pressure and just spent most of my time talking to my buddy Gordon, who came with me, since that way, at least I wouldn't screw anything up by just hangin' out with my boy.

On my end, I decided to have fun with it also by bidding on four different women that were on the board.  All of the four had no business ever going out with me in a normal world, so I figured, hey, I'll drop four reasonably low bids on these girls, and if I happen to win, so be it.  Even better, if I win one of these girls, they HAVE TO GO OUT WITH ME...so, for at least one selfish night, I will have some pretty cool arm candy to parade around DC and on a selfish level, this is quite healthy.

Two days later, I got the e-mail from Mandy.  Again, part of me thought it would be quite hilarious to not be bid on at all.  It didn't work out that way...apparently, somebody read the bio and bought the candy, and it was someone that I did not meet while at the party two nights prior.  I recently heard from that woman and we will hit the town sometime in a couple of weeks.

Meanwhile, later that day, I heard from Mandy again.  The subject line read:  "You're the Big Winner!"

Uh-oh.

In fact, I "won" this half Puerto Rican, half Hungarian hottie named Stephanie, who I had talked to earlier that night at the party.  This was interesting because I used to work with Stephanie back when I was living in the DC area before my move to Cali...and, even MORE interesting because we spent some of the night at the date auction party talking about the guy she is currently dating.  That's right:  she entered a date auction but she was already dating someone.  So, as you can imagine, I didn't get my hopes up that anything would happen with that girl, and I was right on, as our "date" was spent just hangin' out, chatting about the other guys she has been out with lately and the state of hip-hop, always a great topic of conversation when your favorite music form has mostly gone to shit.  Just like a brunch with Mom, my "date" ended with a hug and a take care; this was fine with me, and it was maybe the best way to get back into that whole dating thing...by not really going out on a date at all.

Well, now that I have asked girls out, been asked out, tricked them into going out with me, done blind dates with women and even bought one, I guess the only thing left to do is get bought by one.  I wonder how much I was worth...

(The Date Auction, Part II will come later...)

 

Random Bellviews, courtesy of Bell & Longer Community Trust:

• The knowledge that the Red Sox are peaking about a month too early:  Opening Weekend

• Siestas every day after lunch:  $9.50 Show

• Picking out reception halls for your wedding...picking out reception halls for your wedding:  Matinee

• 18-hour flights:  Rental

• Waiting two hours to leave the FedEx Field parking lot:  Hard Vice

 

justin@bellviewmovies.com