Millionaire number one was a very strange Irish man who I encountered in Sunderland one night when out drinking with a few friends. My initial introduction to him was when I heard him laughing just after a girl had fallen down a full flight of particularly painful looking stairs in a bar. Everyone immediately kicked off about the fact that he was laughing, so he looked for a quick escape route. Being the nearest person to him at the time, he began to talk to me. I then tried to get rid of him by returning to my other friends, but he just wouldn't take "go away" for an answer and decided to tag along. He then paid himself and 3 of us into the next bar / club / thing. It was at some point in the queue that he mentioned being a millionaire, and wanting to spend his money with some good friends. How he got his riches remains a mystery... if he was even as rich as he claimed to be. How he has no friends better than us was easy to find out.
Inside the bar he showed very little social skills, grabbing a barmaid by the arm to get her attention, shouting "Oi!" at a barman to get his attention, and slapping various blokes on the arse for no reason whatsoever. He was a terrifying man to be around, but we thought he would eventually get a round in with the wads of cash he was waving around. He didn't. He did, however, invite us to his private box at the Sunderland stadium for a football match the next day. We politely declined as he was a complete mentalist. After a short while, he said or did something stupid to a bunch of guys nearby, and then told us to leave as he was about to get into a fight. We haven't seen him since, thankfully.
Millionaire number two was essentially just a horrendously drunken Asian man with lots of money about his person. He stumbled into The Brudenell in Leeds with a pint in his hands, even though the bar was already closed. He started dancing to The Pattern Theory who were playing the encore of their headline set. Then he started shouting and trying to get me and Jeff of Juffage fame to dance with him. We politely declined but he began to be a nuisance. So, the promoter asked him to leave. When he refused to do so, his pint was confiscated and taken outside, but he then paid the full entry price to come back in for the last 1-2 minutes of the last song of the night.
During this mess, he had been waving his money around, and he did have quite a lot of cash on him. I hope for his sake that he didn't get mugged on the way home, as he wouldn't have a clue what happened the next day. After the gig had ended, he continued to be annoying in front of the merch stand, potentially explaining the lack of sales after the bands had finished. Then he got into a fight with some bloke who was trying to get him to spend all of his riches on our merchandise, which sadly didn't work.
The real highlight of his presence was when he finally decided to go home. It took him about four attempts to get his leather jacket on (more specifically, to get his arms in the correct sleeves), and then proceeded to do the whole "OK, I'm going now, bye!" thing several times before actually going, even though no one was paying him much attention.
I wonder if either of these two chaps were actually loaded... or just mental...?
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