Accidental Millionaire

An acquaintance of mine once won a million pounds on the lottery. He was sitting on the toilet doing the scratchcard when he discovered. It was January. He was a nice chap, I'd met him in the cult. Him and his mrs and kid. He spent quite a lot on trainers and watches, and a great deal more than that on mdma and cocaine. He was paying full whack, retail, on the mandy and charlie too. By the end of the year the money was gone but he still owned his house, and he'd had a great year.

He hired a limo for us all to go to a rave in Manchester or Liverpool or somewhere. He had infinite mandy. I'd done more than a gram by the end of the night and wasn't really functioning. His brother and his girlfriend both kissed other people and had a furious fight on the way back. She said her love bite was from a girl so it didn't count. Turned out it wasn't from a girl anyway. Scott and I went on one of those catapult ball things which was reckless and astonishing. I saw strange magic in circles of people dancing. Every now and then a really nice black woman would come and clasp my hands and jump with me and then go away. I mostly danced alone. Everywhere I went they called me Jesus.

Someone from the cult came that night, sneaked along whilst living in the commune. None of us knew him very well and he didn't stay around long after that. On the way back we were kept up by two rather odd young folk, who also no-one knew very well, yabbering all the way home. I met the two of them months later in a train back from London. We recognised each other but didn't say anything.

We started one night, maybe that one, in the bar in his basement he'd had built. He actually bought the basement conversion company that did it as the builder was retiring. As far as I know the company never did a stroke of work from that day. Later on he had the bar ripped out as it was bad for his health. I nearly got in trouble for letting on how much his watch cost when not everyone there knew he was loaded. Luckily I was wearing a £5 Casio watch at the time - so any watch was expensive compared to that one. I still have the Casio watch.

I met a woman who is now a dear friend at a gig he'd put on as promoter at the Picturedrome because he wanted the Dub Pistols to come to Northampton. Then we went to some classic rave, Fantazia, at the Roadmender, with a tag-along drug dealer mate of ours (apparently) complaining about £25 to get into a rave. And I lost my mandy. And I didn't give her a lift home. She got water for all of us and I mostly ended up dancing alone. We went back to the flat separately. Richard, of course, had disappeared and Scott was ill and went home.

I remember standing on the stairs in the Picturedrome watching her sort of dance and wondering who she were. She was clearly someone. Richard kept offering me some of his mandy and not giving it to me. Then I think he actually had lost it. Metaphorically and literally.

The accidental millionaire was in his element. I think he had a hat. His mrs had this habit of gently touching my arm with her boob when she talked to me. It was so lovely. I liked her. For a minute maybe I thought my new friend hated me and everything I stood for. And maybe she'd stolen my mandy. Richard told me she probably didn't and I worked out that she probably hadn't. We talked about religion and she told me she had been known to stand in a stone circle or two. That told me everything I needed to know about her.

Popular posts from this blog

The Jesus Army and the Independent Inquiry into Childhood Sexual Abuse

Commentary on Brexit and Thoughts on Patriotism

The Bible: The Good Parts