Auctioneer (Another Engine).

I've long wanted to take in an auction, both for the experience and for the possibility of uncovering some great bargains. Greeted by the strong smells of stale tobacco and alcohol, bacon, eggs and church, SCS and I made our way to one of the local auction houses this morning, wandering in an hour into the four hour proceedings. Rookies on the floor, nervously flinching with our buyer card. The vets paid us no mind, perched as they were like birds of prey on plastic chairs -- copious notes and quick tallies, furiously scribbled into their catalogues. And still, we turned around to scratch our noses with eyes cast downward, lest we be pegged as buyers of crazy old Aunt Ruthie's favourite crocheted mauve slippers, always tucked lovingly onto arthritic feet. And under Morris, her sweaty cat's belly.

No, we have better taste than that. Still, it felt a little like Antiques Roadshow meets garage sale meets Vegas -- every item was a potential gamble, chock full of adrenaline coursing through your veins as players anted up. Are they bluffing, or do you fold? You might just end up with something nice. In the end you wind up with something: your purchase, or a broken heart -- lamenting the one that got away. Yeah, just like Vegas. Ensuring you don't get sucked into the fevered vortex of the moment can be a challenge, particularly for people as competitive as SCS and I both are. That said, with a little bit of research and a set price in mind, you can get some really good deals. So long as you are able to walk away from something you wanted when the auctioneer's chatter climbs a little too high. And the chatter can be quite something.

First and foremost, I was amazed by how pretty much everything goes. When an item doesn't receive much interest, the auctioneer combines it with something else in a package deal. A bonus nobody wanted. Plates, dishes and teacups rarely sold individually; rather, they ended up being combined. It was also incredible to see how cheaply some items sold: a great condition, antique wooden kitchen set, including a table with eight chairs and a hutch? 10 dollars. What? How can you go wrong there? While still a little out of my price range, a Haines Brothers square grand piano with intricately carved legs from the 1800s sold for $600. A quick look on the Internet and I found a similar one which just sold for $25,000. The auction's highlighted item, it would have likely cost about as much as the purchase price just to move it out of the warehouse.

Upon the sale of a cross filled with holy water, a fellow first-timer remarked: "Jesus, sold for 15 bucks? Sacrilege". SCS had fancied a couple pieces of furniture. She has a good eye: those items, of course, ended up being a couple of the day's highest draws and she came home empty-handed. There were obviously some professional buyers in there, grabbing things with good resale value, but there were still good deals to be had.

We participated in a couple of the auctions, but rarely ventured beyond the price raising a couple of times. We hadn't yet grasped auction strategy and were slow reacting on a couple of bids. But we didn't get sucked in, either. Not wanting to leave completely empty-handed, I did win a lot comprised of old glass bottles for five dollars. Much like old books, writing implements and printing plates, I've always had a fondness for old glass -- and particularly bottles. They were just so much more solid, made in interesting colours and shapes, and often had things embossed into them.

One is from Lavoris mouthwash; another big chunky bottle was for Enos Fruit Salts, which was reportedly used for easing stomach discomfort. The neatest, though, is a small rectangular bottle originally used for Davis Vegetable Painkiller. Patented in 1845, it is believed this product was the first nationally advertised remedy specifically for general pain and was distributed around the world by Christian missionaries. Lost out on some old pens and an antique child's chair with a drawer built into the base. Oh well. I think we'll be back another time; if nothing else, it was a fun way to spend a Sunday afternoon.

"Do ah hear five...fi..fi..fi...fi an' a quartah...fi...fi...fi an' a quartah?"