Auction Adventures 1.1 - Fat Git and The Moon

I wanted to move back to Sydney and needed a job. I phoned a friend [we'll call him Dr Blues] and asked him to find me a job. He did. At an auction house. Not having any experience of auctions I figured this might be an interesting challenge. The job seemed to involve, "setting up some systems.... helping out with the computers.... that sort of stuff" said Dr Blues. A while ago I'd worked in various management roles and more recently had controlled an annual IT budget of $70k in the government sector. 

I phoned the owner of the auction house [let's call him Fat Git] and had a chat. Fat Git came across as warm and friendly, empathetic even. I arranged to fly into Sydney for a chat.

The auction house was dimly lit, archaic and stuffed to the gunnels with crap. In various crowded sections antique furniture was piled on top of other antique furniture, but the majority of the consigned stock was of low value - the stuff that charity shops turn away.

Mmmmm....

Fat Git was jovial, a good talker and appeared at least mildly eccentric. We talked about what he needed, "Someone to get the staff motivated.... to run the business and free Fat Git up to work with clients.... sort out the computers". I ran my experience by him and he said he was impressed. Finally we talked money. He did not want to pay me what I felt the job was worth, but we agreed that I'd swallow a slight pay cut and that we'd review things in three months. There was a strong indication that if I was doing a good job, I'd get the money I had suggested.

Fat Git's parting words were, "We'll look after you".

Cool. I'd sorted a job and could make preparations to move back to Sydney. 

Two weeks later I walk through the loading bay and into the office. "Oh.... Dave, you're here. Come and meet the staff". Here's the warehouse crew, here's the book-keeper [we'll call her Peru] and here's the office manager [let's call her The Black Widow].

Less than half an hour later I'm learning the auction software with The Black Widow and everybody is calling me 'The New General Manager'.

Within an hour people are poking their head in the door and asking, "Are you still here?" I reply "Yeah, no worries" and keep on working. Peru, the book-keeper has been saying to The Black Widow, "Whatzhedo?"

"He's the General Manager"

"Yeah, but whatzedo?"

The Black Widow tells me, "Peru's mad, just ignore her".

A few days later The Black Widow is screaming at Peru, "You fucking bitch!!" over some minor disagreement. Peru later complains to me as Gen Mngr and I have a meeting with Fat Git. I leave the ball in his court and..... nothing is done.

Mmmmmm...... This is interesting, but I need this job right now: it pays the rent.

By my second week I have a pretty good understanding of how the auction business works and am beginning to learn some of the dynamics of the staff at this particular auction house. I've also become an auctioneer.... with my own style [insert London/Australian accent here]  - "$40 with you madam.... $50 with the gentleman at the back......  ......... I'll take $5 madam.... $55 with the lady at the front.... $60 with the gentleman......  come on darlin' [getting down from the podium]  just another five dollars and it's yours.... it's a beautiful piece..... you should take it home.... $65 dollars with the lovely lady.... going for the first time at $65 dollars, for the second time..... all done at $65 [bang of gavel] well done madam! Lot 475.... a beautiful fire bucket in fire engine red.... appears to still contain some ashes, probably from cigarettes, but still a lovely piece. Who'll give me $30?" 

Auctioneering is fun. the guy with the gavel is in control and can do more or less what he wants in this auction house, as long as (s)he gets good prices and can auction around 100-120 lots an hour for a whole day.

Fat Git knows this and has his own inimitable style.... well to be honest you wouldn't want to imitate it. He is slow, verbose, makes up provenance and makes up bids. He talks like Barnum and is just as trustworthy. I've been there less than a month and he's already trying to get me to fake phone bids to drive up the bidding. I sidestep his requests for me to rip people off and enjoy watching him get other staff to do his dirty work. Mainly because they don't know when to stop and often end up being the winning bidder. I'm learning to like seeing Fat Git's face when he realises he's just bought a deco wardrobe for $100 more than he can sell it for.

Unfortunately, usually just a passing problem for Fat Git who will later tell the vendor, "Yes it sold.... but the phone bidder did not come in to pay. We've recorded a strike against them. Put it up next week. We'll see you right." Bullshit.

I beginning to feel Fat Git is a little more crazy than eccentric..... a feeling that is reinforced a week later.

By now Fat Git has taken to wearing dungarees every day of his seven day week. You might think these dungarees would be a collection of smart work wear with classy company logo embroidered onto the pocket. You would be wrong. No logo, no classy colours or cuts, no washing machine and just one pair of dungarees with a broken strap. Some weeks he might shave, other weeks he might comb his hair. I do not recall ever seeing this dungarees clean or in good repair.

He does live in a house, a big, big house almost in the country. It does have hot water. He does have other clothes. Lots of other clothes..... but more on all that later.

This particular day he is moody, unwashed and his smell is applying for its own post code. Fair enough really: it covers a large area. He stomps around the place with a shuffling gait that reminds me of little people that have worked underground for too long. There is a cartoon storm cloud over his head, or maybe that's my imagination.... it's getting hard to tell the difference.

Fat Git is talking with a vendor, an important one, trying to track down a piece of missing furniture. Peru comes back downstairs with a phone in her hand, she always takes it to the toilet.... don't ask me why. She butts in on Fat Git's conversation and makes a fatal mistake: she tells the vendor the truth, as she sees it. Fat Git goes a weird shade of red gold, like metal heating up, and begins to quiver. He shouts at Peru to go back to her office and mind her business.

Seconds later Fat Git bangs the office door open, smashing some stock on 'hold' for buyers waiting to pick up and launches a Vesuvial eruption at the hapless Peru. He's not shouting any more: he's screaming. Flecks of spit, or perhaps yesterday's breakfast, fly across the office as his tirade builds. He tells her to pack her bags and go. She does. 

The Black widow is ecstatic and pops another Prozac. I say, "Careful Black Widow, you could be next."

"Oh no! Fat Git will never sack me. He loves me.... all the things I've done for him. We go to church together every Sunday"

"Mmmmm....", I reply, "I didn't know that"

"Yes, we're very close"

"No, I didn't know Fat Git thought he was a Christian.... all that lying and stuff"

"Well, we go to church together. every Sunday".

I go out into the warehouse to consider my options. I've got the staff working better here, most of the time; I've streamlined some systems; introduced new ones and so on. There is a lot more that could be improved for everyone but every time I get Fat Git to agree an action plan he goes in the opposite direction within minutes. 

Nothing here is fixed. everything is shifting all the time, including some of the stock. 

But you know what? I'm starting to sympathise with the staff.

[Next Time: Enter The Black Widow - Fat Git & The Moon Pt. 2]