What do I look like, Bank of Kigali?

I don’t know about you but of late I’ve been feeling like Oprah Winfrey - extremely loaded even when my pockets disagree. I had to call the bank to see if they’ve been silently telling people that I’m rich (also wondering if a rich relative died and left me some money!) but it wasn’t so. My account balance is still very disappointing and I haven’t lost any relatives (thank God). So I figured I probably just looked rich but my mirror begged to differ – my hair hasn’t seen the salon in weeks and my skin is rioting! So I wonder, how come individuals are getting into the habit of asking me for beer every time they see me? What am I? The beer bunny?More annoying is the fact that these beer beggars are way too young to even be drinking, hence the suspicion that I just reached the sugar mummy status and it ain’t funny! One of them came and introduced himself to me like he had seen me somewhere. He then went ahead to pull up a chair and talk about a house party where girls will be dancing on top of tables. Apparently he was going to take me with him. I wasn’t sure whether to laugh or to cry. Here I was feeling too old to even sit at the bar counter and the silly boy was talking to me about dancing on tables? Thinking he had excited me with his party invitation, he gathered the courage to ask me for a beer, claiming there was more where we were headed. I can’t explain just how fast he left the table when I grabbed his little neck and told him his death was just one squeeze away if he uttered another word. As if misery hadn’t made its point, he came back moments later with a herd of his friends and introduced me as his new friend. All I could was sit there and feel sorry for him because it was obvious he truly was retarded! Out of fear of finding myself in a dark cell for trying to corrupt people’s kids, I grabbed my bag and got up to leave. “Where are you going? Can you give us a ride to the party,” the retard asked.I don’t know what went wrong the day this nuisance was born but I suspect the nurse slipped and dropped him. I sent him a jeer that would put Nigerians to shame – it was either that or my fist and his face were going to have their own party. And like I said, prison is not my favourite place!