The Old Grouch has discovered E-Bay. So far he’s collected a talking fish, an Elvis bust and the best of the Dean Martin show on VHS. I walked him through the process the first few times. Now he’s out there alone in the cyber swap meet, sifting for treasures.
About eleven thirty this morning I watched him as he sat crouched over his keyboard, squinting at the flickering screen and cursing the universe.
“What’s going on?” I asked.
He startled to attention. “Nothing, what the hell kind of question is that?”
That was heavily disguised a cry for help. I eased behind the chair to get a gander at the monitor. On display was a selection of three bumper stickers. The first one read: KEEP HONKING WHILE I RE-LOAD. Nice. The next one read: BAMBI, IT’S WHAT’S FOR DINNER. And then, IF IT AIN’T KING JAMES, IT AIN’T BIBLE. These phrases neatly summed up his personality.
His nose was two inches from the screen. It was a page of his current bids. His bid on the Honking sticker was six hundred ninety-nine dollars.
“Is there something special about that bumper sticker?” I asked.
He sat silent for a moment. “I think I screwed up.”
I rolled a chair closer to the computer. His bid on the Bambi sticker was eight hundred ninety-nine dollars. The King James was going for three ninety-nine.
“You have two thousand dollars tied up in bumper stickers,” I said.
“I was afraid of that. Damn, I need to call my wife and tell her not to buy that new refrigerator.”
“No,” I said. “Let’s look at this.” Beside the illustration of each sticker was a note: You are currently the high bidder on this item.
“The good news,” I said. “You’re the high bidder on these three stickers.”
“No shit.”
“The bad news is someone may come along at the last minute and out-bid you.”
“I wish the hell they would.”
I scrolled down to the bottom of the page. There it was; RECALL BID. We spent ten minutes adjusting the bids. “You have to remember, they don’t place decimals for you.”
His face creased. “I don’t need a lecture.”
“He said to the man who just saved him two thousand dollars.”
“Yeah, you’re right. All right, I’ll buy you lunch. But don’t go crazy. Nothing fancy.”
“Let’s go to the Deli.”
He pondered for a moment. “Can’t do it today. Catch me later.”
After I made arrangements for my own lunch, I came back to find him slumped over his computer. “Hey Burke,” he said. “Can you come here for a minute?”
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