To the Victor Goes the Spoils

     Generally, I am a borderline miser.  I work hard for my money and the thought of wasting it or giving it away is anathema to me.  El Hubbo, on the other hand, is the exact opposite.  This is one of the many ways in which we bring balance to each other's lives.  There are exceptions and last night was one of them.
    El Hubbo has never met a gun raffle he didn't believe he could win.  There was going to be a big one in Plainview in support of the Plainview FFA.  He called me and said he'd take me to dinner, and oh, by the way, they were "giving away guns".  Having grown up in a household that practically flew the NRA flag from the rooftop, I knew that no one "gave away guns".  If you give them substantial dollars, they will TRADE you a gun. 
    I knew where this was headed, so I immediately responded that if we went it did not count as our anniversary dinner, since our anniversary was two days later.  He mumbled something about my narrowmindedness but quickly agreed since he needed me.  Because I have the checkbook.
     Saturday came and we loaded up and drove to Plainview.  We entered the community center and we were pointed in the direction of the silent auction.
     Remember when I said there were exceptions?  El Hubbo could care less about a silent auction.  I have never met a silent or live auction I didn't like.  My eyes lit up like a kid at Christmas.  El Hubbo grabbed my arm and whispered in my ear, "Don't go crazy."  "Oh, I won't, I doubt there is anything we need."
     Need seldom enters my thought process when I am bidding at auction.  I began to walk the aisles and I grew more and more excited.  There were very large candles, painted picture frames, cakes, boxes of oil, incredibly cheap and gaudy jewelry, a large bushel basket of okra!  I could not imagine my life being deprived of these treasures!!!  When El Hubbo wasn't looking, I scrounged in my purse for a pen.  (All serious silent auction bidders should carry their own pen.)  I started bidding.  With maniacal glee I jumped from sheet to sheet scribbling my name and an opening bid. 
    El Hubbo, fearing the loss of his retirement, chased me around the tables.  When he caught me and wrestled the pen from my hand, he made the crucial mistake of telling me: "You aren't a big dog at this auction - why don't you lay this one out?"  I may not have been a big dog, but I could still bark!  Throwing down the gauntlet like that was not his best idea.
     Soon, the other serious silent bidders began to make their appearance.  El Hubbo looked at me with horror when I told him to prepare to trip one old man as he tried to outbid me on the bushel of okra.  I was stretching in preparation of tackling a heifer, I mean lady, who was gunning for my ginormous candle.  This was war!!!!  
     Back and forth I went scowling and rising to my full height to intimidate as many of the other bidders as I could.  I had the leading bid at one time on the ginormous candle, the bushel of okra, a painted picture frame, an old wood with horseshoe handles tray (just think of things I could carry in it?), and two glass jars of cake and icing.  I needed these things.  They would make me happy!!!!
     While chasing off bidders on my candle, the old man slid by El Hubbo and jumped the bid.  Reality slowly set in that maybe he was the rottweiler and I was the chihuahua in that race.  I gave up the bushel of okra, but not without some serious pouting.  I was still in it on the rest of the items though.  El Hubbo, in desperation I believe, promised he would find some old wood in an alley and build me a tray with horseshoe handles.  We engaged in a brief but vehement argument involving references to other conversations where he had promised to build me things that I still have not seen come to fruition.  He promised fervently, so I acquiesced and stepped out of the bidding on the tray. 
     I would not, however, be deterred from the ginormous candle, the picture frame or the jars of cake.  They would be mine and that was non-negotiable.  I handed El Hubbo a pen and made him man my candle sheet.  (I did not at all trust him to manage the frame and cake jars sheets.)  I kept an eye on him and if he slacked, barraged him with my not-so-subtle urgings to focus on the game at hand!  I did notice that he kept pulling his hat down lower and lower - and, in retrospect, I believe he might have been embarrassed by his wife.
     Finally, time was called.  I cackled with glee and did a little jig and "boo-yahh-ed" the little old lady giving me the stink-eye (or as El Hubbo says, "the ojo").  I had slid the final bid in on the cake right after her, but before time.  You snooze, you lose!
     Then I heard the announcement that the live auction was about to begin - OH JOY!!!!  El Hubbo tackled me (yeah, sure, he'll tackle me, but he was afraid of a little old man) and said "ABSOLUTELY NOT."  A zebra stripe purse with rhinestones and pink piping was held up.  I hate zebra print.  I hate pink.  But I had to have this fantastically ugly display of bad taste!  It would be my auction badge of honor.  I wriggled and tried to free my arm, but El Hubbo said, "No way, no how are you buying that."  Then a gun safe was up.  Aha!  I knew he'd let me bid because HE would want  a gun safe.  I could care less, I just wanted to WIN!  I asked sweetly, "But, honey, don't you want a gun safe for the gun you win in the raffle?"  Envision the batting of the eyes.  He thought about it, but I blew it when I looked around and said, "Do you think they'll take a mastercard?"  He tightened his grip on my arms and threatened to put a gag on me. 
    When all danger of my bidding on ridiculous items had passed, he released me, and I went to payout for my spoils.  El Hubbo tried to walk a few steps away from me, but I regularly and loudly referred to him as honey so everyone would know he was with me.  Happily, I climbed in the truck and gathered my stuff in my lap.  I do love a good auction!