Alexandria pediatrician Annalise D’Andrade has sold some big-ticket items on eBay, including her motorcycle and her husband’s golf clubs.

But faced with the hassle of offloading less expensive objects on the global Internet auction site — which she would have to photograph, describe, list, pack and ship — she turned to a middleman.

“The little stuff, random bizarre gifts from my mother-in-law that I don’t like” and wedding china unused for a decade, all went to ezAuctioning in Alexandria, one of several dozen area consignment stores that help the time-starved or cyber-wary turn household clutter into cash. (They also liquidate commercial inventory: a boutique’s last-season designer clothes, a bankrupt firm’s office furniture.)

In the past year, D’Andrade has made about $1,500 selling assorted unwanted items — a Waterford crystal bowl, a sewing machine, a bicycle — using ezAuctioning (www.ezauctioning.com), located in an unprepossessing Old Town rowhouse. “Only a handful of things haven’t sold,” she said.

Alonzo Roberts, a Temple Hills child-care consultant, had no idea such businesses existed until he passed eSpot (www.espotstore.com), a similar consignment operation in Georgetown, on his way to a movie. Having recently upgraded his cellphone, he wanted to sell a year-old Nokia N93 camera phone, which retails for about $700 new.

“No other (electronics) stores wanted it, and people on the street only wanted to pay $250,” Roberts said. But when eSpot listed it for him on eBay, it fetched $550; after the store’s cut, Roberts pocketed $385. “I can’t complain,” he said.

These two stores and others like them are not owned by eBay, but by people who tout their skills in marketing a dizzying array of goods, from sterling silver trays to old car radiators.

ebay was the pioneer but is not the only Internet auction site. Amazon.com and Yahoo have moved into the market of selling things to the highest bidder. But eBay remains far and away the dominant player, with 212 million registered users worldwide.

For their customers, Internet consignment shops do all the tedious work. Shooting pictures of items from multiple angles, writing descriptions incorporating frequently searched key words and pointing out defects, deciding whether a 24-hour, one-week or 10-day listing will bring top dollar. They answer e-mail queries from bidders, collect payments and send off all items that sell. They may relist things that haven’t sold.

In return for these services, they take a hefty chunk of the proceeds — 15 to 50 per cent of the sale price, plus eBay charges — before paying the seller.

eBay started in 1995 in California’s Silicon Valley. By 2002, it had officially recognised so-called trading assistants, who buy or sell items for others, often for a fee. In 2003, that middleman service had morphed into drop-off centres easily accessible to the public, eBay spokeswoman Catherine England said. Most are in strip malls and commercial neighbourhoods.

eBay appreciates these businesses because “they help bring items and inventory to the site,” which claims 105 million objects in play at any given moment, England said. She estimated that there are less than a thousand stores nationwide but cited anecdotal evidence that the number is rising.

Some shops, such as ezAuctioning and eSpot, are independently owned. Others, such as iSold It in Gaithersburg and Snappy Auctions in Alexandria, are franchises.

Mike Hadad left a lucrative career as a software marketing executive to open an iSold It in Gaithersburg 17 months ago (www.i-soldit.com) and is planning two more in Montgomery County.

“We are really in a disposable society. We kind of intersect a lot of life situations — moving or downsizing,” said Hadad, whose clients have jettisoned everything from “furniture, pool tables, a sofa” to stuffed wild boar heads, cemetery plots and football tickets.

To do well, “furniture has to be a brand,” said Ellen Radigan, a former antiques dealer who owns Snappy Auctions in Alexandria (www.snappyauctions.com). “I can sell a Pottery Barn rug, a Heywood-Wakefield art deco bedroom set. If someone brings me a beautiful antique chest, unless they have very specific details, it won’t bring much.”

Some consignment shops decline to list sofas and other large pieces because buyers have to pay what can be considerable shipping costs; that added premium can mean no sale at all. Even when bulky items do sell, the shops aren’t eager to grapple with packing them up. Other stores will take a chance on furniture (it usually stays in the seller’s home), hoping it will be snapped up by a local buyer or someone willing to pay $100 or more for shipping.

Washingtonian Victor Kamber, president of the public relations and lobbying firm Carmen Group Communications, thought he’d never get rid of the upright piano that cost him $7,000 a decade ago. A classified ad brought no takers, and the music store he bought it from declined his consignment request.

“I had looked on eBay, but I am such a dinosaur,” said Kamber, 62. “The process of listing something, if you’re not really fluent, could be difficult.”

One night while walking to dinner, Kamber noticed a sign for Capital Auction Experts (www.capitalauctionexperts.com), which is tucked in the rear of a MotoPhoto in Bethesda.

Shop co-owner Davis Kiyonaga made a house call, photographed the piano and posted a 10-day auction.

“The opening bid was $260, and my heart dropped,” said Kamber, who had put a $3,000 reserve, or minimum price, on it. Happily for him, the final price was $4,700; his share was $3,900. The buyers sent a moving van to haul the piano to a Pennsylvania nursing home “so 80-year-old ladies could hear Christmas carols. That made me feel good.”

Although shop owners tout their pricing expertise, they rely almost solely on eBay sales of similar items. Most pay no mind to retail stores, high-end live auctions, antiques shops or boutiques, telling sellers such prices are irrelevant to eBay bargain hunters.

Ken Lopez, who owns an Alexandria litigation consulting firm, was philosophical about the $400 Nikon camera he’d bought in 1986 and recently handed over to ezAuctioning.

“The last one to sell went for $91,” shop co-owner Geremy Gersh told him, to which Lopez replied, “That will about cover a meal in a nice restaurant.”

Timing can be crucial, store owners say.

Two days after former president Gerald R. Ford’s service in the US Capitol on December 30, a couple brought Hadad 20 programs from the event. He posted them for 24 hours, five per day over four days. All sold, going for $30 to $130 each.

Alexandria commercial real estate agent Lamrry Grossman assumed Gersh would sell his mother’s Wedgwood “Columbia Sage” china as one large lot.

But seeking to start a bidding war among collectors eager to snag the hard-to-find green pattern, Gersh posted just one place setting a week for 12 weeks. The first one brought $114; the last one, $272.

“I went to antique dealers, and they didn’t want it. It costs money to store,” Grossman said. “This is the greatest way just to get rid of things, exposing it to the largest market. Geremy takes his share, but that’s all right. He lists it, and it’s gone, it’s gone, it’s gone.”

Washington Post