Bidding War

by Julia P. Lynde

  "Hello, Barry," Bernard said. He nodded at the woman. "This is Pamela Henderson, one of the dates we're auctioning tonight."

  At that, the woman perked up and checked me out, smiling, and I think she wanted an introduction, but Bernard ignored her. Barry checked us off a list and let us in the door.

  We were in what was basically a back stage area of the convention center. Everything was a little crazy. To the right there was a station set up with two women doing makeup. I saw Bonnie getting touched up. As she'd told me, she was wearing a tuxedo. She looked pretty good. Over to the left, a harried-looking Suzanne was talking to someone. I didn't see Sam right away. Bernard pulled me towards the makeup station.

  "Bernard, my mother did my makeup, and I'm happy with it."

  "They have corsages for you," he said. He led me to a small group of people, and that was when I saw Sam.

  She was talking two three guys, all dressed exceedingly well, but the moment she saw me, she stopped and stared at me. Bernard drew me straight to her.

  "Pamela," she said. "You look amazing!"

  "Don't act so shocked, Sam," I said quietly.

  She stepped closer to me and gave me a tentative hug, careful to avoid mussing my appearance. While hugging me she whispered into my ear, "Thank you so much. I owe you. I don't know what I would have done if you hadn't volunteered."

  "You didn't want me to do it."

  "Pamela, I wanted you to do this like you couldn't believe, but I couldn't bring myself to ask. Thank you, thank you, thank you."

  "You're my best friend, Sam. Of course I want to help you out." We separated and I looked at her. She looked more nervous than I did. What was odd was that she hadn't looked nervous when I walked in.

  "Pamela," she said. "I hope you still say that after tonight."

  "Don't be silly," I told her.

  She smiled wanly. "Let me introduce you to some of the other bachelors." She turned to the men she'd been talking to. I realized they varied in age from upper twenties to mid-forties. "This is Billy," she said. "Brent and John." I shook hands with all of them. I was a little surprised, as I thought Brent might be gay. But if Bonnie could be auctioned off, I guess a gay man could, too. Heck, if I had the money, I'd pay for a date with Bernard. I bet he'd make sure I had a pleasant evening.

  And of course, it's all for charity.

  "I have a white corsage for you," Sam said. She turned to a table behind her, and I saw there were still a couple more corsages and several boutonnieres waiting to be pinned on their respective bachelors and bachelorettes. Sam picked one up and carefully pinned it into place above my left breast.

  "Everyone knows that someone wearing one of these white corsages is one of the bachelors," Sam explained. "You should mingle and not spend more than a minute or two with anyone. If you're spending too much time with someone, Bernard will pull you away. You can spend a little bit longer with a group, but you need to mingle."

  "Got it," I said.

  "Make sure when you meet someone you offer your name. You'll get asked a lot of questions. Use your judgment in answering them, but please don't lie. It's better to refuse to answer questions that are too personal." I nodded.

  "If someone gets out of hand, Bernard will deal with them."

  "Right."

  She smiled at me. "Thank you, Pamela. Try to have a nice time. Please don't hate me."

  I patted her hand. "This will be fun, Sam."

  At that point, Bonnie came over. We gave each other careful hugs, then she pulled away. "You look ravishing." She sighed. "I don't think my two hundred dollar bid is going to do me any good."

  "Why would you pay for a date with me, Bonnie? We already go to the club together three times a week."

  She smiled. "For the goodnight kiss."

  I laughed. "You wouldn't like kissing me," I told her. "I taste like straight girl."

  "I know," she said. "Straight girls taste especially sweet."

  Pamela hugged Bonnie and pinned a boutonniere on her. She looked stunning. "Why a tux instead of a dress? Won't that put off the bidders?"

  No one said anything right away, then Bonnie said, "Naw. There are a few gay women in the crowd. They'll bid on me." She paused. "But you'll bring in more than I do. Ready?"

  "I guess."

  She turned to her handler, a fabulously-dressed man whose name I hadn't caught. He looked just as delectable as Bernard. "Lead the way," she told him.

  Bernard and I followed after Bonnie and her handler, stepping through a set of double doors at the back of the convention hall.

  "Showtime," Bonnie said, looking over her shoulder at me.

  I was suddenly nervous. I turned to Bernard. "What am I doing?"

  "Helping a friend out," he said quietly. "And helping a very good charity. Don't worry, honey, Uncle Bernard is here." He patted my hand. I smiled weakly.

  I suddenly felt very self-conscious. Who was I to think anyone would want to pay money to have a date with me. I couldn't keep a guy for more than a few weeks, and while I was somewhat picky about who I'd go out with, I was usually willing to give almost anyone one date, if he asked nicely and wasn't a jerk. Why would someone pay for that when they could have it just for the asking?

  I stood in the doorway, staring out at the crowd.

  "Bernard-"

  "Step forward now, Pamela," he said. "Don't think about that. Mingle. Meet people. Say hello."

  "I'm going to feel like a piece of meat."

  "I was one of the bachelors last year," he said. "And I'd never had more fun. Try to enjoy it."

  And then he pulled me deeper into the room, and I got a chance to look around.

  We had entered in the back of the room near the corner. To our left was the stage where, I presumed, the auction would be held. They didn't have a sign that said "auction block" but they may as well have. I looked around for the slave cells, but I didn't see those, either. I commented on that to Bernard. He laughed.

  Along the long wall to the right of us, heading from the back corner next to us almost all the way to the front corner were tables, and on the tables were the items available for the silent auction.

  The rest of the room was filled with people milling about.

  This wasn't the largest room at the convention center, but it wasn't small. "How many people are here?" I asked Bernard.

  "Several hundred," he said. "We sold a total of five hundred tickets, plus figure another 35 or 40 helping to host the event, if you count the bachelors and their handlers. Not everyone is here yet."

  I looked at the people. Attire was all over the board. I saw other people dressed exceedingly well, including some older women wearing very expensive jewelry and gowns. At the other end of the spectrum were people dressed in faded jeans. I didn't see any tee-shirts, so at least it wasn't off the deep end of casual. Still, I was surprised.

  Everyone was carrying a little magazine that I discovered was the program for the night. In the section for the bachelor auction, there were photos and bios of all the bachelors and bachelorettes. Sam had used a photo she already had of me and had written my bio.

  Bonnie's attendant drew her in one direction, and she disappeared into a small crowd of people. Bernard drew me in the opposite direction, bringing me straight to the two old ladies who were dressed to the nines.

  "Agnes," he said. "Jean. I'd like to present bachelorette number six, Pamela Henderson."

  "Oh, aren't you ravishing," said Jean. "You're Sam's straight friend, aren't you?"

  I thought that was an odd way to put it, but I said I was.

  "You're going to be very popular," said Jean. "If I were a few years younger, I'd bid on you myself."

  "Over my dead body," Agnes said. "Thank you for supporting our event this year."

  We chatted briefly before Bernard pulled me away.

  "Those two ladies were totally flirting with me," I told Bernard. He didn't say anything. Before he could pull me to another group I asked, "Could we look at some of the auctio
n items? There might be something I want to bid on."

  He frowned.

  "Am I not allowed to bid on them?"

  "Honey," he said. "You need to mingle. Please."

  I sighed. "All right." I let him pull me to a small group of women where I met Victoria, Wendy, Shane and Veronica. All four of them were stunning. Victoria and Wendy looked to be in their fifties. Veronica appeared to be mid-thirties and Shane was younger than I was. We didn't stay for more than a minute.

  Before we could reach the next group, we were intercepted by a stunningly dressed, forty-year-old woman. "I'm Tara," she said. "And you are?"

  "Pamela Henderson," I told her. "Bachelorette number six."

  "Sam's straight friend?" she asked me. I nodded. I guessed that people were keeping track of Bonnie as Sam's gay friend and me as Sam's straight friend. It seemed odd.

  "It's so good of you to donate yourself for this," Tara said. "It's a wonderful charity." She paused. "You'll really give your date a good evening?"

  "I'm not offering sex, if that's what you're asking," I said.

  "No, no," she said. "Of course not. But a proper date, with, well, flirting?"

  "And a good night kiss, assuming my date is a proper gentleman."

  She smiled, looked me down once more, then made notes in her program. "It was good to meet you. Perhaps we'll meet again."

  Bernard slowly had me work the room, traveling counterclockwise. Sometimes he pulled me to a group of people. Other times someone saw my corsage and introduced herself. He introduced me to woman after woman. I was often referred to as Sam's straight friend, and several women asked whether I would really be providing a proper date or if it were just a token date. I assured them I'd give it my all, but that I wasn't offering sex in the mix.

  Finally we had been there for forty minutes, and I still hadn't been introduced to a single man.

  After having just talked to Cynthia, and a third Jean, I pulled Bernard to a stop. "When are you going to introduce me to potential bidders? Bernard, I do not want to go for an embarrassingly low price."

  He looked at me in confusion. "Honey, you don't need to worry about that. And I have been. Haven't you been noticing? The ladies are all taking notes in their programs."

  I stared at him, then looked around. I looked at the people. To my right I saw two women holding hands. Directly in front of me, four men were talking, all of them impeccably dressed, and one of the guys was leaning with his hand on the shoulder of the guy next to him.

  I looked at Bernard. It was obvious he was gay. Sam, Suzanne and Bonnie were all gay. The first two women I'd been introduced to were obviously a couple.

  "Bernard," I asked very quietly. "Is everyone here gay?"

  "Of course not," he said. "Sam said you're straight."

  "Who else?"

  He looked around. "Maybe some of the wait staff." He said it with a very tentative tone as if he wasn't sure.

  I stared at him before asking my next question. "What group is hosting this charity event?"

  "The local LGBT group, honey. You knew that, right?"

  "That bitch!" I said. "I'm going to kill her!"

  His eyes grew wide. "You didn't know that?"

  "Where is she?" I said, looking around. I didn't see Sam. I immediately began heading towards the back of the hall and towards the doors we had come in, looking for Sam. Bernard hurried to catch up to me, catching my arm.

  "Pamela," he said. "Honey."

  "Don't honey me," I told him. "I'm going to kill her. This is why she told me not to hate her."

  "She should have told you," he said.

  "Damned right she should have told me!" I was seeing red. Bernard had my arm in his hand and was trying to drag me to a stop, but I pulled him along, and he had the choice of making a scene or following along.

  I didn't see Sam or Suzanne, but I saw Bonnie and altered course to intercept her. I got about six feet away before she noticed me. I stopped and glared at her. She offered a tentative smile, then closed the distance to us. Bernard had grown quiet.

  "You bitch," I told her quietly. Her attendant looked shocked. "How could you? I thought we were friends."

  "Shhh," she said. "Pamela, we are."

  "You bitch. Find a new workout partner."

  I turned my back on her and stormed off, Bernard hurrying to catch up to me.

  "Honey," he said. "Pamela, calm down. You can do this."

  "I am letting my best friend know she needs a new best friend, and then I am calling a cab."

  "Are you that big a homophobe?" he asked me quietly.

  I stopped in my tracks. "Up until this event," I told him, hissing, "My three best friends were, in order, Sam, Bonnie and lately Suzanne. Do not judge me. They did this on purpose, and it's not funny. Not a single one told me."

  I turned and got five more steps before he ran past me and blocked my path. "Do you think they did this to be mean?"

  I stared at him. "You know, Bernard, I don't know why my former best friend would set me up like this, and I'm not sure I care. I can't imagine a good enough reason."

  I tried to step past him, but he blocked me. "Why is it so bad?"

  I stared at him. "Because I'm straight, and they want me to go on a date with a woman."

  "So? I'm gay, and I don't die if I go out with a woman. Why would this be any different?"

  I was still seeing red, but Bernard had been nice, and I thought about what he said.

  "Pamela, honey," he said. "I'm not saying you shouldn't be mad. You should be. But are you going to burn bridges over this? These are your best friends. Is it that bad?"

  I deflated a little. "Why, Bernard? Why wouldn't they tell me?"

  "Honey," he said. "I don't know. It's a shitty trick. But I know that there were two cancellations. We'd already sold our tickets based on having six men and six women, and we desperately needed someone as big a draw as you would be. Sam was desperate. She couldn't take just anyone, she needed someone stunning, someone near your age, someone to make up for who had cancelled."

  "She should have told me," I said quietly.

  "Maybe she was afraid you wouldn't come."

  "Damned right I wouldn't have come!"

  "Why not? Don't you support the charity?"

  "Of course I do," I said.

  "Wouldn't you help your best friend out of a jam?"

  "Of course I would."

  "Pamela, tell me what you wouldn't do for Sam."

  I thought about it and didn't have an answer.

  "If she were in trouble, would you kill for her?" he asked me.

  "That's ridiculous," I said.

  "Would you? If that was the only way to save her?"

  "Of course I would, but-"

  "Would going out with the women you've met tonight be as bad as killing someone?"

  "Of course not, but-" I didn't have anything to add after the but. "I'm still mad," I said finally.

  "I don't blame you," he said. "But put it in perspective. Do you want to lose your three best friends over this?"

  I looked away. "Damn it, Bernard, you're taking my anger away, and I haven't bitched out Sam yet."

  "We'll go bitch her out, but please don't burn bridges. And Pamela, as much as you want to, you have to stay. You have to. It won't be that bad. You'll have fun. I promise you, you'll have fun."

  I let him take my arm, and he led me into the back area, deflecting several women who wanted to meet me. "We'll be back out shortly," he told them.

  When we got in back, I didn't see Sam right away, but I saw Suzanne. She saw us coming and shooed away the people she was talking to. I walked up to her and put my hands on my hips. "Where is she?" I asked in a very low voice. "Where is the woman who I thought was my best friend?"

  "Pamela," Suzanne said. "Please calm down. She's afraid you'll hate her."

  "Why didn't she tell me? Why didn't you? All three of you sat there, and not one of you told me. Why?"

  "We were desperate."

  "N
ot good enough!" I bellowed, not caring who heard me. "Where is she?"

  "I'm right here, Pamela," Sam said in a quiet voice from behind me. I turned around and glared at her. "I'm sorry. I should have told you. I was afraid you would say 'no'."

  "You have to do it," Suzanne said. "Pamela, please. We sold tickets. Very expensive tickets. We had backups, but our two best women cancelled."

  "And you replaced them with me?" I asked, turning to face her. "You couldn't do better? You know, maybe find a gay girl instead?"

  Sam stepped around me to stand next to Suzanne. "I called everyone I knew," she said. "Everyone Suzanne knew. And they all called the people they knew. And it kept coming back to, 'if only Pamela were gay, she'd be perfect'."

  "Yes, but I'm not gay," I said.

  "It's one date," Sam said. "And you told Bonnie if she won, you'd kiss her. Were you teasing?"

  I looked away.

  "Were you lying when you said she'd get a goodnight kiss?" Sam asked again.

  I turned back to her. "No, but-"

  "If you hadn't said that," Sam said, "I was going to tell you the rest. I was about to, then you said that, and I thought, if I tell you, you won't help. But it won't be that bad. I've kissed guys. We all have. You could flirt for an evening and kiss one woman, one little goodnight kiss, and you'll make a lot of money for the foundation and save the entire event."

  "You're being overly dramatic."

  "No, she's not," Suzanne said. "People come for the auction. We needed you, Pamela."

  "Completely ridiculous. In a town full of gay women, you couldn't find someone?"

  "No, I couldn't, and I was out of time," Sam said. "Pamela, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have tricked you. I understand if you never want to see me again. But you have to do this. Please."

  "I am mad at all three of you," I said. "And I intend to stay that way. Perhaps for a very long time. But fine. I'll do it. Under protest. But this may have cost you a friend, so you damned well better not look happy about it."

  I turned to Bernard. "I need a drink, and I bet I need fresh makeup."

  He nodded and took my arm, drawing me to the makeup station. I sat down and fumed, ignoring Bernard's attempts to lighten my mood. An artfully dressed women walked over and looked at me.