Usually Brighton and Hove Albion fans spend their summers waiting for the club to snaffle up a few free transfers who nobody else wanted - the footballing equivalent of the ugly bloke who hunts drunk, large women at the end of a night out knowing they don't have a better option. They might be slim pickings, but at least its a new face in the squad.
This year though, things are different. No more are the Albion shopping in the bargain bin. No more footballing versions of Panpiped Beatles Classics for us. Oh no.
Backed by Tony Bloom's squillions, the Seagulls have already broken their transfer record. Twice. Yes, you read right. Not once, but twice. And it may soon even be thrice.
First came Bristol Rovers' talisman Will Hoskins. Half a million quid to start with, possible rising to £800,000 is he bags a shed-load of goals and we go up.
Then earlier this week Will Buckley arrived from Watford for, wait for it, £1million.
True, we are flogging Elliott Bennett to Norwich for £1.5million when he gets back from his holibobs and we have already lost Glenn Murray to the Club Who Shall Not Be Named on a free transfer, but this represents the sort of squad building not seen for many a year on the south coast.
Already there are reports linking the Albion to Arsenal's Henri Lansbury, free agent Neil Kilkenny and a gaggle of others. Paper talk? Quite possibly. Exciting? Definitely.
A worrying rumour about Inigo Calderon possibly being on the way out cannot dampen the sheer delight at the fact the Seagulls are splashing the cash.
Personally though, I am slightly worried by it all. When we were signing players for next to nothing, whatever they did seemed good value. Well, apart from Federico Turienzo. Now we are paying seven figures rather than 11 tracksuits for our signings there is bound to be added pressure.
What if Buckley turns out to be, well, a bit shit? What if Hoskins hardly finds the net? What if Lua Lua arrives and gets injured? What if Poyet signs a few more Battipiedis rather than a league of Bridcutts?
Some comic book person once wrote: "With great power comes great responsibility." The same could be said with Poyet's current Championship warchest.
One thing is for certain though, worrying about whether the stunning size eight you pick up in a trendy bar will put out is a far nicer problem than fretting over whether you have enough breakfast in to satisfy the plumpster you pulled down West Street.