A couple of years ago, I was visiting my dad Professor J.C. Duck down in Truro, that well-known roadkill-eating capital of the world.On a spare day, we went into the City Centre for a bit of sight-seeing and shopping. Wandering in and out of shops that were exactly the same as those in every other town in the UK, we stumbled across a crumbling building in a backstreet behind the cathedral with a large, hand-written sign outside.
"AUCTION: TODAY" it said.
Neither I nor my charming wife had ever been to an auction before, and spurred on by a world of orange-skinned David Dickinson and cheap-as-chips bargains, we decided to give it a go.
So, we squeezed into a packed auction room and found a couple of seats near the back just in time to hear the auctioneer's hammer and the words:
"SOLD! To the gentleman in the green baseball hat. And that concludes today's sale..."
I have, then, spent a total of three seconds of my life in auctions.
Of course, I could say that I was that gentleman in the hat just for comic effect, but that would be 100% of lie.
OK, I WAS that gentleman in the hat, and I'd just bought a piston engine. Happy?
What, he asks, shamelessly stealing the idea from Danny Baker's BBC London show, have you done for short periods of time? Premature ejaculators need not apply.
No comments:
Post a Comment