Do I hear $5,000?

My hand stayed by my side and I gazed from behind my sunglasses at the pool of potential bidders in front of me. I watched as a large man with a long gray beard raised an arm that lay resting on his stomach. We were off.

I raised my hand at $6,000, and he immediately nodded at  7. I was just as eager at $8,000, and we continued rapidly for the next few thousand. In front of me stood a man and woman who decided it was time to get in or go home, and they helped get the price up to $20,000, but dropped out at 21. Back to the original bidder and I, and it became clear we both wanted to end up with the high bid.

That’s how things started at 2 pm last Friday on the stoop of a building on Race St. I’ve been to property auctions before, but never one like this. This was not a bank or sheriffs auction, rather a woman who wanted to get rid of two properties. The auction was structured in such a manner that whoever ended up as the high bidder had their choice of buildings, or the option to double their bid and take both. Personally I wanted the south building because it had a bigger garage, and I didn’t see major cracks in the building like I did in north building.

So at $21,000 it was down to the two of us, vying to hit the other’s checkbook threshhold. When we hit 26 my opponent wavered and offered 26.5. I pondered his move for a moment as my boss came over and told me slow down my bids. It was hard, because I was eager and I knew this was mine. I raised my hand at 27. Again he pondered, and after 15 seconds or so agreed to 27.5. Now the waiting game was mine. I let the auctioneer babble about the auditor’s value and other irrelevant facts. Soon enough one of the other auction house employees was at my side doing whatever he was doing to entice my bid. I wasn’t really listening, I knew I was going for it. After the longest 30 seconds of my life I raised my hand, and I was in for 28.

At that point I felt some relief. I just felt like he wasn’t going to go over that.

“$28,000 going once.”

When I heard that I knew it was mine.

“$28,000 going twice.”

I started to smile, which is probably a bad thing.

“$28,000 third and final time.”

No gavel, just a “Sold,” followed by “Do you want both buildings?”

I didn’t, and I claimed 1830 as mine. My opponent then agreed to purchase the neighboring building for the same price. Had he not the building may have gone even cheaper (frankly I don’t know why he didn’t try). Either way, my bidding rival was now my neighbor.

I met my neighbor on the other side, or I should say, the guy who owns the building in which the Jazmin market operates. At least I know milk, eggs, and 40′s aren’t far away….

When I called my mother to let her know what I had done she asked if I was nervous. It suddenly struck me as odd, I hadn’t really been nervous at all. I think I was so enamored with the thought of how great this could be, I forgot to be nervous, my heart wasn’t really racing at all.

Consequently I’ve been really nervous, now that it’s mine I actually have to DO something with it!

No matter what, I’ve got my first property auction under my belt, as well as my first building purchase.

*          *          *

In the week since my purchase I’ve met the gentleman who operates the carry-out next door (and most certainly packs heat), as well as a bunch of people from the neighborhood. Everyone seems nice enough, although hearing people refer to it as The Wild West can be a bit unsettling at times. I’ve spent ten hours thus far in the evenings ripping out carpet and masonite, and trying to secure the property. Each day I get a little more comfortable, and to be honest I just want to get the work done and move in. My biggest worry at this point is someone breaking in and doing more damage, something my mind will be at ease about when I (and my shotguns*) move in.

So a week in and I’m still feeling good about my purchase. I know it’s not a matter of if, but when I will run into some trouble in the ‘hood, but right this minute the outlook for this place still looks bright.

*Yes, I do own a couple shotguns. As a child my parents had some land on the eastern shore of Maryland where we would hunt various water fowl. When I moved into OTR (and across from the jail) I thought it would be a good idea to have some self defense in case of a break in. Let me be clear, the last thing I want to do is shoot/hurt/kill anyone! Hopefully people will stay out, and I will be putting plenty of security measures in place to try and prevent trespassing. But if anyone decides to try and enjoy my premises uninvited, you better believe they will be greeted to the sound of either a 12 or 20 gage semi-automatic shotgun slide closing with 5 shells ready to go. Just saying….