Believe it or not, there are situations in an auction when a bidder is totally ignored. Maybe it's because their last check is still bouncing, or perhaps it's because they belong to one of the following species of non-buying bidders:
The wavers
We've all seen these folks. Usually, they sit up front so the ring crew can see them when they wave at a wayward spouse or long-lost friend across the room at the same time the auctioneer is selling a million-dollar painting or a $10,000 club calf.
You'd be surprised how many times we've sold a bull to a lady who owns no cows, or a horse to a broken-down cowboy who's so poor he has to bum chew from his girlfriend. You can put your boots in the oven, but that doesn't make them biscuits. Likewise, just because someone waves doesn't mean they're a bidder.
The scratchers
Whereas the wavers don't know any better, the scratchers should. This endangered species includes old cow-buyers and horse traders who like to be as discreet as possible when they bid so others won't know they're doing it.
This creates problems for ring men and auctioneers who are on the lookout for any sign of movement. I once knew an old cow-buyer who had a nasty rash one sale day, and ended up buying a billy goat and two loads of barren ewes - at top-dollar, too.
The fakers
I've only met one of these. He was a nice young man whose father worked at the local sale barn. I don't know the politically-correct way of saying this, but the young man was mentally-challenged. He loved auctions, and after observing them for a while, decided upon order-buying as a career.
He was good, too - he'd make all the right gestures to cut the bid, cut an animal out and on what number to put his purchases. The only problem was he didn't have any cash or real orders for cattle. This was unfortunate, because he had a better eye than many buyers I've known.
The first time I worked a sale in his presence, I sold out to him many times. I'd imagine the feeling I experienced was similar to what a calf-roper must feel when he goes down the rope only to find an empty loop.
The crooks
I was taking bids at my first cow sale when the auctioneer told me in no uncertain terms that I was NOT to take bids from a well-known crook gracing us with his presence that day.
The bad dude’s modus operandi was to bid on the cattle and have his loaded trucks headed for another state before his kited checks started falling back to Earth.
The crook was as sociable as a sore-bagged ewe with triplets (only without the charm), and he was always trying to cut the bid. I wonder - what difference did the price make, if he never had any intention of paying?
It wasn’t unarmed robbery either, as I discovered the first time I ignored the old codger’s bid. I was doing a fairly good job of neglecting him when he opened his faded jacket just enough to show the walnut pistol grips on the gun in his shoulder holster.
Needless to say, I took his bid, and so did the auctioneer.
The drunks
What is it about a horse sale that makes everyone think they need to bring a designated drunk with them? I can usually tell by reading a person’s body language - such as a drink in each hand - whether to take their bid, but the problem is everyone yells at you for missing the bid.
Once, a consignor stopped a sale to yell at me, "Are you blind? The man’s waving his hat to bid, can’t you see?" Quietly, I tried to explain to the consignor that the bidder was three sheets to the wind and wouldn’t pay, but he replied, "Well, what would it hurt to take his bid a couple times?"
The duckers and dodgers
Bidding is fun and people like to do it, including folks who enjoy the attention so much they bid to be seen ... but not to actually buy.
And, if by their misjudgment they end up the winning buyer, they’ll disappear faster than a box of Depends at an old folks’ home. Readers with questions or comments for Lee Pitts may write to him in care of this publication.
This farm news was published in the March 28, 2007 issue of Farm World, serving Indiana, Ohio, Illinois, Kentucky, Michigan and Tennessee. |
