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Auction Virgin

I went to my first ever auction on Tuesday. I found some old pots that I thought would look fab on the glamping site, so I decided to bid.

Well not being your ‘normal’ kind of girl, I tackled this like a headless chicken. I don’t do subtle. I was so busy chatting to the old folks around me about missing the bidding by chatting, that I nearly missed my bidding – much to Alan’s disgust.

I then threw my arm up with great enthusiasm when I worked out that my Lot 16 was up. Blimey, the auctioneer rattled the cash figures out like a machine gun, so by the time my arm came back down he had reached £35! My limit was £20. Alan was horrified. An old bloke won thank God.

I was down, but not out. It was time to act sharpish. After even less subtle flirting, me and the bloke struck a deal and I paid £20 for nearly the lot. He kept one. Result. They’ll look great planted up with geraniums in the summer. Alan has banned me from auctions.

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