So, if you’re only joining us today, let me tell you…I really have a sick interest (some say obsession) with singles events. Not that I honestly believe I will meet the love of my life. More that I find them such bizarre disasters I like to sit back and enjoy the ride with several drinks in hand.
I usually go to these events alone and despite the initial weird beginning, I end up having a blast. Probably due to the massive amount of alcohol I consumed. But mostly due to the fact I am privately narrating the entire evening and hoping I remember some of it to either blog or tell to my friends with lots of hand gestures.
Well, I try to get a lil bit out of my comfort zone and they say misery loves company…
This event – the aforementioned dating auction – was an invitation I got from a friend (who was also attending). Her friend was organizing the event and hell…dating auction?! Don’t have to ask me twice. I’ll confess it doesn’t invite the same sort of glee as speed dating does for me (sigh) but I think that’s mostly due to the fact I am a part of the festivities. Auctions…well…there is the person on the stage and then there’s the people who bid.
I was not on either side of the equation. A spoiled sport you say? Maybe but I’m getting ahead of myself.
Met up with my lil group of three ladies and together we were the gang of four. And as any good pal should do, she provided me answers to my burning questions…what exactly will it be like? What if nobody bids on you? What if you end up going out with a really creepy person? What if? What if?
Answers! Apparently all those who volunteered to be “sold” promised to bring at least a few of their friends to bid on him/her, all in the name of charity. Makes sense. Nobody wants to see anyone up there humiliated and one can never tell with a crowd on the brink of inebriation.
Speaking of which…I got there when it was still filling out so getting a drink shouldn’t be much of a problem. Let’s just say the service irked me. As did the idiot girls who just stood in my way WITH THEIR DRINKS IN HAND. I scooted them away. Nobody gets between me and my booze. Now word to the wise…at these events, it’s best to stick to the simple stuff, unless you like really sugary, syrupy drinks. I do not. Gimme a wine please. Simple. Got one but because of the crap service, it remained my ONLY drink of the night. I know…who am I?
Now, while I am more of singles event solo kind of gal, I’m really glad I had a group to chill with in this case. Sometimes it’s easier to mingle on your own. You’re forced to make friends cuz you simply don’t want to be the Debbie Downer in the corner. I always think I look like a pissed off lamb who maybe wandered into the wrong party.
In this environment, everyone had gone off in their own cliques. I soon learned it was an event organized by a running group. They seem to do this annually so many of the crowd already knew one another. And as nice and open as people might be, when people know people, they don’t really care to meet new people. It’s just fact. Felt a bit like high school without the mean girls.
Events like this bring out the bummer in me too. The auction crowd was OVERWHELMINGLY female. At least 4 to 1 in the girl/guy element. A bit hysterical but also it made sense. What guy would willingly go to this sort of thing? Girls? Hell, they think it sounds like fun and go for it. It’s our way.
What depresses me is how it can illuminate the large number of attractive well-to-do women in the city who are essentially your “competition” for the few eligible and decent men out there. Our numbers were high and it just made me feel a bit small and a bit lost in that field of beautifully dressed ladies. I hate thinking that way though cuz in the end, love is a game of luck and chance. The numbers are simply distraction. Still, I’m only human.
Sigh.
That said, upon closer examination, I also realized this wasn’t my crowd. AT ALL. Was contemplating how to make one understand. And it hit me as I was watching Ellen DeGeneres interview Jennifer Aniston. Holy fuck! I was surrounded by a sea of Jennifer Anistons. Apologies to those of you who are fans of the “Friends” actress but to my eyes, she is just the epitome of bland and boring. Nothing about her pops. I’ll admit my reaction is probably a bit nuts but her beloved status violently annoys as I just have never understood why. As an actress, she’s mediocre and flat. As a celebrity, her claim to fame lies in a being the spouse who was ditched. It sucks but her star rose mostly because of that. Not in spite of it. Apart from that, there is nothing distinctive about her. Just like this crowd. No wonder I felt so fucking pissy. Irrational. I know.
When we checked in, they handed us a number (to use for bidding) and a brochure listing out the ladies and gents for sale. Swoon.
The brochure pretty much summed up my morbid curiosity for the auction. Put simply, I got really excited to see people get sold.
Have I taken too long to get to the main event? Well, then you got a little taste of what I had to deal with before they got the show on the road. It was supposed to start at 7:30pm. Because they wanted the maximum number of people, they waited another 45 minutes. To say I was antsy…understatement. Sell the fucking people already.
So this is how it works – a guy or gal will go up to be auctioned off. The date plan is also revealed by the slide show that accompanies the person on stage. And depending on the sex of the candidate, the auctioneer is of the opposite gender. And now a word about our emcees…
The male auctioneer was a bit like Ryan Seacrest if he drank too much scotch, spent too much time in the sun and realized he was just a two bit Dick Clark and nowhere near the real thing. Yah…but a lil less sad than that.
The lady auctioneer…oi. She deserves a posting all her own. First off, she was fairly noticeable as the only woman in a sequined gown. Fair enough. If you’re gonna be a Vanna White like personality, go full throttle. Now I am very pro lady and while I do partake in the cattiness of my sex, I generally hate falling into that cliche. But know what? If I’m a girl and I remark negatively on any woman’s clothing, I’m suddenly a catty bitch. Can’t win so I say…color me catty.
Lady auctioneer wore a front plungy minty green sequined dress that was less than forgiving. Granted, the woman was probably a size 2 or smaller but if you wear a dress like that, you have to understand all the pitfalls of it too. All shine and no content. If she had the curves to fill it out, it would have hung on her the way it was supposed to. Truth also, I wouldn’t also bitch about it if she didn’t spend all night making sure her boobs were still inside her dress. Let me clarify, by checking to see if the girls were in place, what I meant is she would caress the piece of fabric covering her breasts OVER AND OVER. I get it. You have perky boobs. I’m over it. Stop trying to hard and get up there and start selling!
First person up was the only person of color (the field was pretty monochrome – lily fucking white). Asian fella. I saw him around. He seemed really nice, approachable and cuter than his picture. I can pretty much guarantee that they ALL looked better in person than their pictures. Good on them. The price started at $100. Honestly, I was a bit in shock at the starting price points and suddenly realized this crowd has fairly deep pockets. Alrightee then. If I considered bidding, that is definitely not happening now. He gets bought at $650 or thereabouts. Yay him. Oh also, someone shouted out “take off your shirt.” Must be fun to be a piece of meat.
Oh and sequined caressing lady…she’s got a potty mouth on her but truly it’s not sexy or cool broad like. In keeping with her theme, she’s simply trying too hard. Oh and she’s sucks at running an auction – barely able to keep track of the money she was raising! Blegh. I am not a fan.
The girl goes up. She’s cute. Runner’s slim build and tallish. An attorney or something schmancy. Seriously, this is not my crowd. She’s slightly embarrassed by the attention but a trooper. She goes for $700 or so.
The guy emcee is no second rate Seacrest for no reason. He knows how to run the show. Not only that, he was really good at selling the product and making a game of it. Goading the audience with good cheer and not crude humor (hello sequined lady) and making the fellas up the ante to win the affections of the lady for sale. Hurrah.
My thoughts…first off, not as fun as I wanted it to be. Since the crowd all knew each other, they were pretty much bidding on each other for fun, thus taking out the inherent tension of buying affection. It didn’t seem very romantic like at all. No guy yelling out $10,000! as the crowd dramatically shuts up and parts for him to make his way to the woman he just purchased. Color me bummed.
Which brings me to my other gripe – I couldn’t really SEE who was bidding at all so a lot of the excitement of such an event was lost. I want to feel the victory of the buyer! But how can I when I can’t see who won the bid!?!?! Dammit.
The next few candidates went in quick succession (I’ll give them points for speed). One guy was good natured but didn’t fare as well as others. Still, he raised a decent amount. I hope he didn’t feel bad. The girls naturally did better. And considering the dearth of men there…I’m thinking it was a lot of friends pooling money together and working it that way.
I noticed one girl kept getting bid on by a slightly creepy looking fellow. Luckily for her, her friends kept sweeping in to help her out. Those…are good friends. Charity and watching her back.
Anyways, slowly but surely two friends had to leave and ditched out early. My lone friend and I decided to see a few more people before we jetted ourselves. The last girl we saw was a short curvy little thing – a lot up top and a lot in the caboose, all dressed up in a tight stripy dress. Girl knew what she was doing. She also was clearly a favorite going in. Either that or she had a lot of loud friends, some of which were right next to me.
In front of me were a bunch of (for lack of better term) frat boys. All tall with slight beer bellies, wearing boring pressed shirts that were slightly disheveled as they were starting to drink like champs. Yes, the fists in my mind were lightly pummeling each of their faces.
So I mention such idiot men only because curvy girl’s pals start grabbing one of the surprised gents, telling him to bid higher. Look at her! Look at that body! She’s so fun (probably cuz of the body)! You’d have so much fun with her (and her body)! Gosh, to have friends like that. Dare to dream.
With that cue, I watched her hit about $900 (maybe it was her height that didn’t let her break the $1000 mark) and it was time to leave.
In total I saw about 9 people get bought and sold. Only saw half the show but while I like to complete all things I do, I got a pretty good idea of what lay in store for the second half. My only regret was that I wouldn’t be able to see more drunken people bidding, thus breaking the $1000 mark. And the saddest pity of all, I wouldn’t get to see sequined lady have that one final caress. Relegated to my dreams (nightmares) I suppose.
All snark aside, the crowd was better than I thought they would be. I’ve seen bigger douches at bars I’ve mistakenly wandered into (cuz bars I would willingly go to do not have douches within touching distance). It’s just they were all so bland. These people were cliqued out to begin with and while I am glad I had my own little group to hang with, it wasn’t really a crowd conducive to chatting it up with random strangers. It was like a dressed up event for people who already knew one another. Not a bad thing but kinda incestuous too. Why do you want to bid on people you hang out with all the time? It’s called brunch. Schedule it and I guarantee it’s cheaper.
And with that I check this little item off the secret dating bucket list. Hurrah!
