Shamrocks and Cotton Patches

They say your home is your castle. So it is with Jim’s place, which is shaped like a castle. He’s known as the P.B. Millionaire.

The St. Patrick’s Day party he hosted was downtown at Dublin Square so he wouldn’t bother his neighbors.

He invited 20 women, as he’s working on a web-based reality show.

I walked in and saw a handful of women at a long table. I sat on a couch nearby to observe.

Jim walked in 30 minutes later sporting a tux. His sunglasses and all the dyed-blond hair at the table made me think of the Bret Michaels reality show Rock of Love.

Tables held St. Patrick’s Day tattoos, green beads, and carnations. Balloons were all around.

One woman was really loud. I glanced over and noticed she was attractive. I asked Jen, Jim’s assistant, if the women get jealous of each other. She said, “It happens. Usually it’s if one woman is getting more of his attention.”

She told me about a Valentine’s Day party he had at which a woman came up and wondered what was going on. She ended up winning the grand prize. I said, “And…what is the grand prize? A date with the P.B. Millionaire, or —” She interrupted to say, “We have prizes. And we also donate a lot to charity.”

“Why doesn’t Jim just settle down with you?” I asked. She smiled and said in her British accent, “I work for him. And I don’t think he wants to settle down. That’s the big misconception about all this. He’s not searching for his soul mate. He’s just a shy guy that got rich with an invention and throws fun parties.”

I saw a 6´6˝ guy with dreads. Jen told me, “We got him for security, to keep out…party crashers.”

I got a whiskey sour and talked to the security guard, B.K.

I asked about his size, and he told me he has a number of jokes for when people ask him that question. He said, “The best thing is when they think I’m someone famous. When I was thinner, I was in Vegas and people thought I was Dennis Rodman. The casino was totally hooking us up.

“Another time, when The Cosby Show was popular, my friend and I were in a long line to get into a club. He went across the street, called [the club], and said I was Malcolm Jamal-Warner. He told the club I was filming a movie, and they needed me back as soon as possible. They asked that I be ushered in quickly so I could get back to the set in a timely manner. They brought us in, gave us a VIP table. I was even signing autographs for them, too.”

I found out B.K. had an invention of his own. He told me about his company. They make something called “The Patch.” It was recently one of the items in the gift bags at an Oscar party (he told me he’s worked with a few actresses). He explained that the Patch keeps women from having panty lines because it’s just a cotton patch worn in place of underwear.

As we were talking, he said, “Oh, man, I just lost my client!” He quickly looked around and spotted Jim near the front door.

The cotton patch sounded interesting, but I wanted to know about Jim’s invention.

We talked outside, and he explained how he found his fortune while painting houses. “I had a B.A. in business administration but could make more money painting; sometimes a thousand dollars a day. I noticed…there were no good goggles on the market. It took years, the whole patent process.”

He invented goggles that have a screen across them that allows them to stay clean while painting. As he told me this story, I was thinking about how a guy came up with the idea for the Pet Rock and made millions. I glanced around the pub, wondering if I could invent some kind of straw that gets people to drink their alcohol faster.

Just then, his photographer, Erhan, came over to suggest they take the limo to some of the other bars. Jim told him that they’re all within walking distance. Erhan replied, “Some of the women say they’ve never been in a limo.”

I talked briefly to a woman playing a leprechaun. She’d been working as one for a few years. I told her I liked the reality show Little People, Big World,and she told me she knows the people in it and sees them once a year.

I saw Astra Kelly perform some songs. She told me, “The party looks like fun.” When I told her about Jim’s cool invention, she said, “I can’t believe it. That guy won the lottery, and he invented something.” I replied, “I don’t think he won the lottery.” She said, “Oh. Someone said he was the millionaire from P.B. I thought it was someone that won the lottery.”

I talked to Erhan for a bit. He told me a story about some women coming over to the castle and that Jim told them he was the pool boy. They wanted to know where the millionaire was, and when Erhan explained Jim was joking, they said, “Why would he say he just works here?” Jim overheard this and added, “The funny thing is, I don’t even have a pool. They got back in the limo and left.”

I saw a heavy woman at the table and thought it was cool that the women were all shapes and sizes, but 75 percent of them were fit, attractive, and appeared to be in their 20s.

The waitress brought a Cosmo for one of the women; another got a Manhattan. A few others were drinking Coronas. Jim told them that anything they wanted was covered. Upon hearing that, I ordered another whiskey sour and some potato skins. As I was leaving, they invited me into the limo. I passed.

I contacted Jim a few days later to ask what I’d missed. He said in an email, “Most of the girls were wearing heels, so we took the limo around the block a few times. At one place, we were told by the manager that the video camera was not allowed. A few girls started to get wild and dance on the table. After some nachos and more drinks, we did impressions of Borat and talked about Anchorman.”

I didn’t want to sound as if I was back in high school but emailed Jim again to ask if any women made it back to the “castle.” Jim responded, “It’s easier to get into the Playboy Mansion than it is to get into the P.B. Castle. I live in a quiet neighborhood, and I intend to keep it that way. But B.K. escorted the girls inside very quietly. We went to the upper deck, where there’s a view of the ocean and the bay. The girls seemed to become less inhibited. A few went upstairs to the master bedroom to pose for photographs, and downstairs some of the girls got the stick-on tattoos and made various gestures for the camera. I know you’re probably looking for something a little more scandalous, but it was all just pure fun.”