When money doesn’t impress

So New Year’s Eve night arrived, the day that I couldn’t wait for. For many years, New Year’s was all about watching other people have fun, buy a few drinks, wish I had a girlfriend then finally go home to my boring bed alone in misery. I wasn’t ready to go through the same process this year even though my mother had given me an option of going to church with her and I turned it down. I managed to get something at home that was worth selling without my parent’s knowledge and it was worth about Rwf100, 000. Don’t ask me what I sold because you might be my mother’s friend and rat me out. I was ready to go for the night and two days before, I pictured my self with a number of ladies around me on a table, ready to dance till dawn. At around 11pm, I entered the club and ladies were dressed in all kinds of skimpy dresses. I couldn’t help but stare. Seeing that I wasn’t getting a lady to dance with, I quickly went and made myself comfortable in the sofa sets and ordered for a bottle of Black Label. I sat there sipping on it and thinking it will get the ladies flocking my table. I sat there and watched and waited but all in vain. Even the one lady I managed to talk to almost got me punched in the face when her boyfriend came and asked me who I was. With a lot of love for my face I quickly apologised and went back to my seat. The worst part of my night was that people who were drinking beer had ladies to dance with and cuddle as I watched on. I guess I learnt my lesson; maybe church is actually my thing. Probably I should do more of church than wasting time selling things at home and having a worthless night.