I spent the night in Manchester Piccadilly once in the mid 90s, and it was eventful. I'd been dropped off there after a few months abroad on my first overseas job, and when I went to the cash machine I discovered that I'd forgotten my PIN. I couldn't get my dad to buy me a ticket over the phone until the next morning, so I settled in for the night.
Did I mention that I had three large bags with me? That meant that I couldn't wander around too far from them. Once the clubs closed at daft o'clock, the party goers had to get home, and thankfully they weren't driving. Every single method of intoxication known at the time was represented. From the dancers and twitchers to the stumblers, clueless, ranters and fighters.
I had many brief, entertaining chats, and some longer and more meaningful conversations. Eventually the insanity subsided though, and there were only a handful of people left waiting.
I'd been able to keep hold of my gear (I carried more muscle in those days, and I was very short on patience after the first time that someone tried to nick my stuff). After all that, I wasn't in the best mood, and just wanted to be left alone until i got on the train, which was still several hours away.
There'd been a bloke wandering around for ages though, often disappearing for a while and then returning, only to resume walking around in various sized circles. He was probably about 20 years older than me and slighter, but wiry and fit looking. Unfortunately he took a very sudden dislike to a young woman (she looked to be about the age i was at the time, 23). She fought back really hard, but he was taller and stronger. I ran over and dragged him off her, and he redirected his attack onto me. He didn't hold back either, and it took a lot to subdue him; I had to properly chin him in end, until he was knocked out.
One of the bystanders who hadn't been paying attention threatened to call the police on me, and I told her to do that. The guy I'd fought was starting to come around, and would soon become a handful again, so I reminded her to call the police. They arrived about 20 minutes later, but by this point I'd released crazy man after sitting on him for a while, but he hadn't gone far. The police soon picked him up, as he'd resumed his walking in circles.
I had to give a statement to the British Transport Police several months later, and then I heard nothing more. Just a random story about a weird night a few years ago.
As much as I enjoyed it at the time, I'd much prefer to avoid that kind of bother these days, so recommendations for places to stay near the station would be great.