October 1
st
, 2013
Dear Diary,
The strangest thing just happened. I was outbid for the Giacomo Conterno Barolo Monfortino '78 that I really, really wanted. It was the one wine that I went there to buy. But this is the crazy part. This guy, David, bought it, and then gave it to me, no strings attached! Crazy huh? Even more crazy, he said he didn't drink, or know anything about, wine. I can't figure out why a guy would spend that much money, $575, on a bottle of wine, when he doesn't even drink it.
He was so nice and, my God, was he good looking. I have a date with him later tonight. We're going to this Italian place he knows and share the bottle. I don't know which I'm more excited about... getting to drink the Giacomo or having dinner with the guy that gave it to me.
This was a complete estate
liquidation, so I had to wait through knick-knacks, household items, and tools before the wines came up. After the wines were the furnishings, cars, then lastly, the home. I'd arrived early. I didn't care about the other stuff, but I didn't want to miss the wine auction. After that I'd leave because I had a car and a completely furnished house already.
I sat in the auction tent, watching the sales of dishes, bed linens, power tools, and other assorted junk, bored out of my skull. I was all but dozing by the time the first bottle came up, and nearly missed it. It was a rather bland French white and I bid ten dollars. It got the bidding started but I didn't bother bidding again, and it finally sold for twenty-five, which was about ten bucks more than it was worth in my opinion. A nice Italian red was next up, and I stole it for thirty.
The deceased's cellar was an eclectic mix, outstanding wines intermingled with good, mediocre, and poor. It was obvious the auctioneers had no idea what they were selling because they didn't start with the poor wines and work their way up to the better, so I had to pay attention to each item that came up.
Another decent wine came up, a well-respected French rosé, and I raised my paddle to bid twenty dollars. I finally had to let that one go at eighty because that was more than it was worth. Most of the bottles were singles, though I did win an entire case of Marques de Riscal Gran Reserva '06, a very nice Spanish red, for the bargain price of twenty dollars a bottle.
I sat through the rest of the wines, winning most of the ones I wanted, though not all. It was hard to not get into spirit of the bidding and over pay, but I was husbanding my resources for the Giacomo Conterno Barolo Monfortino, '78, that was coming up. If I won nothing else, I wanted that one. The problem for me was there were a couple of other people in the audience that, based on their bidding, knew their wines as well.
The auctioneers weren't completely stupid, and the Giacomo, was the last bottle up. The bidding started at one hundred sixty dollars, and I raised my paddle. The bidding rose quickly to three hundred where several of the bidders began dropping out. I accepted the bid for three seventy-five. I thought I had it, and for a good price too, when a man across the tent bid four hundred dollars.
I ground my teeth and raised my paddle for four twenty-five. There was another long pause, the auctioneer exhorting the man on, and he bid four seventy-five. He'd upped the bid fifty dollars and was obviously trying to push me out. I wanted the bottle, I wanted it badly, but four seventy-five was all the bottle was worth.
I had to think long and hard about it, but I finally raised my paddle. Five hundred was as high as I would go. I could afford to pay more, but as much as I wanted to try one of the finest wines ever produced, I wasn't willing to be a sucker for it.
I thought I had it. The man waiting until the second count before bidding five hundred and five. He was about out, raising my bid only five bucks. The auctioneer wanted five ten. It was stupid, and the bottle wasn't worth it, but I'd risk another ten for it, and raised my paddle.
Again, I thought I had it, my heart thudding hard in my chest, but like the last time, at the last moment, the other bidder topped me, pushing the price to five fifteen. The auctioneer looked at me, but I shook my head as my shoulders slumped.
"The 1978 Giacomo Conterno Barolo Monfortino... going once... going twice..."
"Five twenty-five!" a man's voice called from behind me.
"New bidder!" the auctioneer called as I turned in my chair to see who had stepped in at the last moment, but I couldn't pick out the bidder.
I looked at the man who had been bidding against me and derived some pleasure from the fact he looked quite peeved.
The auctioneer didn't even bother with his cadence, looking to the man that had been bidding against me. "The bid is five hundred twenty-five. To you sir."
"Five hundred thirty."
The auctioneer looked farther back in the room and I turned, wanting to see who was bidding.
"The bid is five hundred thirty, sir."
A man five rows back and on the other side of the center aisle looked directly as me and smiled. "Five fifty."
I looked back to the other bidder, waiting and watching as the little drama unfolded. Now the other man looked distinctly annoyed. It was childish of me, but seeing him squirm made me smile.
"To you, sir," the auctioneer said.
"Five fifty-five."
"The bid is five fifty-five to you, sir."
I turned in my chair and again watched the man sitting behind me. He didn't even look at the auctioneer, his gaze focused on me. "Five seventy-five," he said, then smiled.
He was good looking, but he was either stupid or crazy. He was over paying by at least a hundred dollars. I turned to look at the other bidder.
"The bid is five seventy-five, sir." The man made a slashing motion with his hand. "Five seventy-five, going once... going twice... sold!" the auctioneer said as he pointed his gavel at the man sitting behind me.
That had been the last bottle, and as the auctioneer began his cadence on a complete set of bedroom furniture, I rose from my chair and began walking to the auctioneer's table to pay and collect my winnings. I watched the man who won the Giacomo approach and I paused, allowing him to catch up to me.
"That's a lovely wine you purchased. I've always wanted to try it."
The man smiled down at me. He was tall and well built, with a handsome face and winning smile. "I'll take your word for it. I'm not much of a wine drinker."
I was so shocked by his comment that I stopped, the man stepping past me before he realized it, then turned and stepped back. "You just bought a five hundred seventy-five dollar bottle of wine, and you don't drink wine?"
He smiled, took my arm and started me walking again. "Yeah. Crazy, I know."
I laughed in surprise and delight, wondering if he was teasing me. We coasted to a stop at end the line waiting to pay. "Well, I guess if you are going to start drinking wine, you might as well start with the good stuff."
There were two women and a man accepting payments, with six more men scurrying around, helping the bidders with their purchases, so the line moved quickly. I paid for my items, handing over my paddle with my number on it. As the woman counted my cash, one of the men sat three cardboard boxes on the table with my twenty-eight bottles of wine neatly arranged inside. I quickly checked them over to make sure they were the bottles I bought.
"Can I help you with those?"
I smiled at the man as he held his single bottle. "You're sure you don't mind?"
"It would be my pleasure."
I was going to take one, but he slid his own bottle down into one of the empty slots, stacked the three boxes, and picked them up.
"I can take one," I offered.
"That's okay. I've got it. Lead on," he said, peeking around the top case with a grin.
I led the man out of the tent and through the jumble of parked cars, walking quickly. The cases had to be heavy, probably close to a hundred pounds, and I didn't want him to drop them, or have him hurt himself if he was trying to impress me.
"I'm David, by the way. David Conley. Most people call me DC. I'd offer to shake your hand but..." He lifted the three boxes slightly as he shrugged.
I grinned. "Lillian. Nice to meet you, David. Thank you for carrying those. I would've had to make three trips."
