Auction Ticket

Anton stared at his computer screen with great interest. The auction price for the rare ticket to the ISS was rising at a rate that was starting to give him palpitations. It began at a price of one thousand dollars, and it was offered by someone who had won it at a raffle but couldn't go on the trip because of an immediate failure of the medical examination---she was too old.

The auction attracted all bids. Some comments left on the item included lamentations of the lack of money, and the questioning of the authenticity of the ticket itself. Others who had the money and had placed the bids exclaimed at the relatively low price that it was being offered, compared to the sticker price of nearly a quarter million dollars as sold on the website of the travel agency itself (there was only one such agency).

Anton leaned back on his chair and waited for the auction timer to run down. He had kept his reserve price near the two-hundred-thousand-dollar mark, but to pay off at that level would require selling quite a few of the stocks in his portfolio, something that he wasn't quite ready to make considering the recent increased attention of the ``activist investors'' who were trying to muscle their way on to his company board by buying as much shares and stocks as possible of his company.

The ticket. It seemed like an exorbitant item, but to Anton, it was a dream come true. He had always wanted to be an astronaut, but his father forbade him any other career choice other than to carry on the family business. He had the grades, he had the athletic prowess, he just didn't have the blessings of his father.

He could have bought the ticket straight from the travel agency, but why should he do that when there's an auction that may allow him to get it for far cheaper?

The minutes started counting down---there were five left. The current winning bid was Anton's own automated bid of nearly one hundred thousand dollars, which had held steady for the last three minutes or so. He wondered if he should raise his reserve price, but thought better of it.

Fifteen seconds remained. He bit his nails, waiting for the outcome. His bid was still the highest.

The auction closed and Anton raised his hands in the air in jubilation, only to find that his bid had been sniped at the last possible second.

Anton shrugged. Perhaps another time.

(Based on an exercise generated by WriteThis - 2014-03-06 20:51:47)