Have We A Bid?

It seemed a brief introduction to
a study of contrasts, as though
some wag had swiftly sketched out
the incongruous juxtaposition of
the two, both attending an auction.
He, tall, slim, distinguished grey,
looked as though he were slumming.
She, tall and corpulent, a colourful,
jaunty straw hat perched on her 
steel-grey head, looked right at home.

This was no prestigious auction house,
but the once-monthly auction of high
value donations at the Salvation Army
thrift shop.  The auctioneer clearly
enjoyed her amateur role, urging
those present to fully appreciate the
outstanding value of a clock, a 
sculpture, framed prints, a hat stand,
an old typewriter, a set of brass scales,
a bookcase, and ... a music stand.

She turned to a stranger seated beside
her to whisper just how much she
craved that music stand.  The pre-bid
price of twenty-five rose steadily in
increments of two and ten.  Hers the
hesitant twos, and his the confident
tens.  At one hundred, twenty seven
dollars suspense reigned supreme.

One could imagine the elegant man
standing before that music stand holding
sheet music, playing a flute.  And she?
The imagination struggled.  In any
event, her agony seemed to be excessively
prolonged,  He looked complacently
entitled and she in contrast looked
bemused, confused.  In any event, it
was not she who finally triumphed.