By Shada Felli
What is it about the words “date auction” that simply does not sound appealing? Could it be the fact that people are actually paying money to get a date, or could it be that the auctionees are willing to sell themselves for a night of fun at the Engineers’ Ball?
My friend informed me that she had entered us into a so called “date auction” to be sold to lord knows who, 24 hours before the auction was to happen. I was one hundred and five pounds of nerves because I wasn’t sure how the entire situation would turn out. My friend on the other hand was full of confinence. I didn’t understand how she could be so excited about a date with… an engineering student? his pedifilic father? Osama bin Laden? Of course, the date would only have me for an evening, but that would be just enough time to stash me on a plane to Afghanistan!
When I arrived at the auction on Tuesday afternoon, I had a terrible case of butterflies in my abdominal region. Thoughts such as “What if no on bids on me,” “What if I get stuck with a freak,” and “What if an overzealous engineer can’t resist himself, rushes the stage, and hauls me off to his underground engineering lair,” raced through my mind as fast as Mario Andretti. These are only a couple of questions that I had pondered during that past 24 hours.
The twelve people that were being sold exited the JB Speed Buliding in one, single file Can Can line so that the audience could get an idea of who they might want to bid on and subsequenly slobber over in the back seat of a car. It was absolutely terrifying to look out at a crowd of people that I had never seen before. The auctionees proceeded back into the building and the auction was underway.
While I was patiently awaiting my turn to be sold, I couldn’t help but think of how I all of a sudden felt like a peice of meat, putting myself out there so that someone could “buy” me. It just didn’t seem to fit into the morals that my mother has been teaching me since I was a child. On the other hand, it was for charity, and my momma has always told me to give to those in need, even if that meant through a bikini carwash.
The next thing I knew I was being introduced and I could feel my heart start to pound. As I proceeded down the steps I couldn’t help but laugh. The bidding opened at twenty dollars and the next thing I heard, as I continued to laugh histerically, were the words of the MC “forty-five dollars, do I hear forty-five or higher.” I couldn’t belive it! I was sold for forty-five dollars to someone that I knew. The disasterous ending that I once thought would become of this event, turned out to be great. I was sold to someone I have known for a couple of years, and the best part was that I do not have to go through the terror of a blind date.
