We represent the retail market, a relative group of rabble sitting in the bleachers attempting to make sense of an impending auction of rare art. The real bidders are hooded and posturing, but have not declared. The auctioneer's staff are analysing the high-end bidders trying to figure out how to get them emotionally involved without totally pissing them off. They look at us rabble, hold their noses , and turn up the fans and air conditioning near our bleachers. They can't stand the smell and the cat calls. We sit impatiently waiting for the auction to start. Two of the high-end bidders remove their hoods, gesticulate and curse in what seems to be Portuguese and Mandarin, them storm out. There appears to be 18 hooded potential bidders. One is known to hold an interest in some of the art. The auctioneer and staff all hold interests, some significant, in the art. Others are rumoured to exist, but no one knows. The auctioneer has several reserves, all undeclared. All the art is high end, but no one knows what it will actually go for. Some of the artists have said they will throw in 100 free hours of painting to the high bidder, but the auction value of that is quite unknown. The rabble appears to want to offer the auctioneer some sincere and insightful advice but he appeases them with free coke and hot dogs, then turns up the air conditioning. The only happy looking guy in the place is at the front door collecting $5 a head for admission. Welcome to the world of NOT retail !