My wife and I went to a fund raiser for the Sacramento Children’s Home last weekend. The event was a crab feed and auction for some of the bigger supporters of the charity. I have to admit I felt a bit like a fish out of water during much of the evening.

During the night, I was surrounded by doctors, attorneys, business owners and even a few retired, high-ranking military members. The only reason I was there was because I was invited by my wife’s cousin, Lila, who has been a huge supporter of the Children’s Home for years. Not only did she invite us to the fund raiser, but we got to sit at the VIP table, which included unlimited drinks and came with a waiter whose job it was to make sure we never had to leave the table. I’m quite sure he would have brought me a bedpan had I requested it.

I felt like a raccoon that had wandered into an AKC show for purebreds and I was just waiting for one of the regulars to glance over at our table and notice the trash panda that had infiltrated their ranks.

Around the outer walls of the venue, tables were set up with donated items for a silent auction. Jewelry, sports and vacation packages, alcohol, and spa treatments were all solidly out of my league, but I placed a few bids on a couple of things just to blend in. I didn’t want to get tossed to the street before I got to eat.

Trash pandas have their priorities, after all.

Despite the large number of items available, the silent auction wasn’t the big fund raiser. The real money started to flow when the live auction began. My wife wanted me to win her a pair of diamond earrings that were being offered. The earrings came with a bottle of champagne and two crystal goblets; I guess the booze was so the winner could celebrate the acquisition of their new jewelry. When the bidding went to $1500 in the first ten seconds, I told my wife she needed to set her sights a bit lower. Maybe we could offer fifty bucks for one of the glasses.

Her next suggestion was that we buy a football jersey signed by the quarterback for the San Francisco 49ers. She thought her mom would really like that as a gift. I gave that one a hard pass as well since it went for over $1000 before I even had time to offer a bid. The people at that crab feed were not playing around. They showed up with checkbooks at the ready and their game faces on.

Then, things just got weird.

After we all had time to stuff ourselves with as much crab as possible, it was time for dessert. The auctioneer brought out four cakes and put them up for sale. The cakes were nice, but nothing special. You could go to just about any bakery in the city and buy something similar without having to mortgage your house to do it.

Here at the crab feed, however, rules of normalcy no longer applied. The first cake sold for $1500, and that was just the warmup. The second cake started a bidding war that didn’t end until the auctioneer called out, “Sold! For six thousand dollars!”

No, that wasn’t a typo.

It was a lot of fun to watch, but it was also sort of terrifying at the same time. At one point, I took my bidding paddle off the table and sat on it so I couldn’t even accidentally get involved in the craziness going on around me. I mean, I like cake, but I also have kids to feed and a mortgage to pay.

I just kept my head down and tried not to draw attention to myself.

I’m glad the auction went so well. The Sacramento Children’s Home is an amazing organization and they deserve every dollar they raised that night. The only unfortunate part of the evening was that the seat I occupied could have gone to someone else more able to support such a remarkable cause.

After the cakes all sold ($15,000 for the four of them) the auction was just about finished. There was, however, one last item to auction off. The VIP table where my wife and I were sitting is offered for sale every year at this annual crab feed and fund raiser, and it was time to find out who was going to have the privilege of sitting there next year.

Another round of stratosphere-level bidding started up as the guests all tried to claim the prestigious eight-chaired table with gold-colored silverware and unlimited booze. When the dust settled and the gavel fell on the final offer of $3400, my wife’s cousin was the last person holding up her bidding paddle. For the seventh straight year, she had claimed the VIP table.

Perhaps to be more accurate,I should clarify that she had claimed one of the four VIP tables available. That doesn’t sound as dramatic as a cage-match battle to the death for one table, but whether it was four tables or one table, the bloody carnage was over and the outcome remained the same.

Thank you, Lila. Thank you for supporting the SCH, and for being related to me.

It looks like this trash panda is going to be at the crab feed again next year.