WWU #3
“Five hunderd? What am I bid? Five hunderd? Five hunderd?”
Linnea’s hand shot up into the air.
“Five hunderd. Young lady in the front row. Come on now, let’s get this goin’.” The auctioneer – “Farmer Dave” – kicked things up a notch with the unintelligible babble in a deep southern drawl. Some guy in the back went up to six hundred. Linnea looked uncertain.
The auctioneer’s aid came over to us and asked, “Can you do six-fifty?”
We nodded.
“I see you down there, Doug,” Farmer Dave scolded his aid, but didn’t seem to mind.
The signed game-worn Matt Holliday jersey shone white on the stage. Jerseys like it had gone for thousands yesterday. But Linnea’s strategy was working. The guy in the back bid higher.
“Are ya out, ladies?” the auctioneer asked from the stage.
We nodded.
“Thanks for comin’.”
Only minutes earlier, the aid – an older gentleman in a suit coat – had walked past us in the front row.
“You two have been sittin’ here all day? You gonna bid on something? We’ll try to get you in there.”
Outbid by fifty bucks, Linnea’s goal was completed. She had single-handedly upped the selling price by two hundred dollars. Nice work. And it was fun.
Twenty minutes later we were standing in line for Greg Garcia’s autograph. The bright-eyed affable young man took the photograph Linnea handed him and whipped out a gold Sharpie.
“How are you doing?” he asked pleasantly.
“I’m good; how are you?” Linnea asked, extending a hand.
If there’s one thing a Snicketts girl has been taught, it’s how to shake hands the right way. None of this limp noodle stuff. Greg shook her hand, and handed back the photo.
“Thanks for coming,” he told us both.
We thanked him, and left. Our work was done. We had done our part to add to the Cardinals’ charity total by haggling against the bidder in the back of the room. Saw Yadi enter in a black hoodie and gold chain – Elvis had entered the building: hooting, cheering – and him with his shy little smile. Linnea stood feet away from Lance Lynn, chatting with some young fans.
And Puck had spent his day at the Science Center, returning with a bagful of heavy duty magnets. Nothing cooler.