Well, I found myself
going once . . . going twice . . . and SOLD! for $475 in Saturday night's Internet Personality Benefit Auction — not a half-bad haul for A Day with Phutatorius, when you consider that
(1) sex with the high-bidder was OFF-LIMITS, as everyone knows I'm a happily married man,
(2) many of the bidders (the wastrels!) had blown their wads on other folks by the time my lot came up, and
(3) due to a scheduling glitch, I could only make myself available to the buyer for the following Sunday afternoon, whereas a lot of the others put in for the long Labor Day weekend.
I mean, look:
Washingtonienne herself only pulled in $1400 for her three-day "Sexy Getaway" on the French Riviera. So I have to feel good about my selling price.
But really, let's put all competitiveness aside and talk about what a great event this year's auction was. That Juvenile Gout Foundation
really knows how to put on a show. As many of you know,
Aldo Nova was the emcee, and let me tell you, he's just one heck of a guitar player. They say he wrote his own jokes, too. You would think that a man with all that talent would be stuck-up, but backstage he was
so down to Earth! All the time he kept saying, over and over, "Remember, people, it's all about the kids here. And the kids' feet. It's all about the kids walking on healthy feet, without pain. That's what we're here for." Guys like Aldo Nova really restore my faith in celebrity.
Now you always take the stage at these auctions with some trepidation. The self-doubt creeps up on you:
What if no one bids for me? What if Aldo has to lower the minimum bid amount just for me? Well, I have to thank the good people in the audience for doing me a solid on Saturday. They really gave me just the warmest greeting, and let me tell you, they bid like a pack of jackals swarming on a carcass. I can't tell you how good I felt as I watched the market price for A Day with Phutatorius soar higher and higher.
And even Bobo got in on the act — playfully raising the bidding paddle when Yours Truly was on the block, and with that gesture egging on the real bidders to increase their offers. (And it's a good thing intern chimps are disqualified from the bidding — or else the role-reversal might have found
me stuck with syringes all of Sunday in our laboratory's subzero chamber. I don't think Bobo would have pulled any punches there, God bless him.)
Gushing aside, though, there is always room for improvement, and the other celebrity guests might be too delicate to say so, but the buffet was shit. I mean it really was shit. What kind of cheap-ass charity puts
chicken nuggets on a black-tie benefit spread? It was an insult to all of us who have the money and
maitre d' connections to be eating
good food somewhere else. I say this not to be a
prima donna, but because I think some of us might not be coming to subsequent events unless the Foundation switches caterers.
And finally, the JGFers might consider running a background check on its contributors before inviting them to the benefit. The couple that bid for me seemed worldly and engaging enough — pleasant company for a Sunday afternoon. I was envisioning we'd pass the time with a nice late lunch and some lively conversation over dessert, and I didn't appreciate having to spend all day cleaning the dead insects out of their porch lamps. And just because you plunked down money to have your way with me for six hours doesn't mean you can hit me in the face with a broomstick like that. I'm pretty sure that gash on my chin will leave a mark.
But otherwise: great event for a great cause, and count me in for next year.
