Recycle "The bidding on this bicycle opens at five dollars. C'mon good people, this is a brand name, ten-speed bike in like-new condition. It would cost you at least a hundred and a half at the store; someone can start with five dollars."
The boy wearing the blue baseball cap raised his hand to get the auctioneer's attention as he had when bidding on the first bike, and the dozen since then. The auctioneer noticed that this time the boy had looked up only briefly as the bike was brought out to center stage. It was as though he was now just going through the motions.
"Five dollars," called a voice on the right side of the hall, half way back from the stage.
"I have five. Do I hear ten?" The auctioneer's voice was carrying well across the city's auditorium. That was to be expected: Jim Reilly had spent more than twenty years as a police officer barking out orders, and being heard.
"Ten dollars," called out a woman at the back of the hall.
"Fifteen dollars," was the response from a man on the left.
The boy lowered his arm.
"Come on folks, you know it's going to go higher, so let's stop wasting time."