Someone said to me the other day 'when are you going to do a crowing post about those football cards?' I said I'd wait until the fees come through from Ebay and then tot everything up. But I got impatient and with no new purchases forthcoming until next weekend, at which point expect a large update, it was either a CPatFCs or one about my newfound obsession with basketball rookie cards. The former representing my only guaranteed, in-the-pocket chance of a glorious success story, I opted for the football cards.
First things first though: let me set that scene. The success about which I'm to crow comes on the back of repeated and demoralizing failure, like all good Hollywood successes (cf: Wile E. Coyote in Soup or Sonic). Since the last update, I've made a profit on just two items: the wee wooden thimble (three cheers!), which netted me 6p, and a pair of pristine cowboy boots, which went for a genocidally unacceptable £11.50. Stick it up your arse, Ebay! Oh wait, the third Netsuke sold as well! For 58p, which I've probably already reinvested in bog roll.
Among some of the biggest disappointments were the Mother of Pearl bracelet, which was robbed off me for £4.19 just days after two tasteful (and probably kind-hearted) acquaintances offered me significantly more. From this I have learned: take the money when it's offered. Also, a lovely little stainless steel brooch in the shape of a comma (come on! Commas are the coolest punctuation mark!) which lost me 70p and the little bloody beaded bloody lipstick holder, which went for a single quid. Beads are out.
What I've learned from this is that Ebay isn't the best way to make money on these things. I'd be much better off finding local dealers or setting fixed-price sales. Anyway, I'll expand more on my changing strategies in a forthcoming post.
There is also quite a bit of stuff knocking about that didn't sell, so I'll include that in whatever new strategy this new strategising throws up. This lot includes the Slimmer's Plate, the Jasperware Plate and the Mother of Pearl Ring. To my eternal discredit, I've also written off a couple of items against my total. These are a cassette version of the Breakfast Club soundtrack, which turned out to be hopelessly distorted (when my friend Ross and I tried to play it after our 5th viewing of said film) and a really sharp Dablju shirt, which looks pretty good on me, and which has therefore been withdrawn from circulation.
So, in summary, of what I've sold so far:
That's an octo-loss! Bloody hell. I'd do an emoticon at this point, but they're not helping anyone. How should I articulate my disappointment? I could tear the curtains down, but they're quite nice curtains and I got them for my birthday (wonder how much I could get for them on Ebay...), or I could go and pensively smoke a fag. Yeah, I'll do that like in films.
Here I am getting a fag out of the packet...yeah...I'll...wait, what's this in the fag box? Why, it's a
NINETEEN FIFTIES CIGARETTE CARD WITH BILLY WRIGHT'S SMILING FACE ON IT
That's right, thou waves of clownish internet fortune, I'm still in the game! I'm not afraid to admit that those thirty-two motley globe-chasers have heroically bailed me out and left my finances in raw, if not rude, health.
In the end, they attracted a rather modest flurry of bidding which, I'd like to imagine, all came from pipe-chomping whiskered old soaks who saw said buccanneers ply their trade in the fifties, rather than red-faced memorabilia dealers in Stourport spare-bedrooms. Amid the pall of poor performances and evaporating capital, I still excitedly logged in throughout the week of the auction to see the price first go green and then creep upwards, like a hung-over slow loris.
They eventually reached the grand heights of £51, square on the button. Now, as I'm not likely to ever see this level of profit margin again, I'd like to record it for electronic posterity. It's a 1,357% profit fools! (sorry for calling you fools. You're not fools. In fact, you've probably already made a better stab of that profit calculation than I have). But anyway, oh frabjous day, right?! Here's what it does to our rudimentary totaliser thing:
That's a pretty remarkable stack of cheddar, there. I could have cheese sandwiches from now until I got malnourished and still have enough left to make a little throne out of. It's enough to make a chap complacent and full of his own nonsense, which, rest-assured, I shall certainly be in the next installment.