Impossible Night

The homeless man smiled. He was intoxicated with a reverent sense of humor that mirrored sarcasm while he asked the seemingly rich man to spare a hundred dollars - this was followed by a laugh from both parties and a glance in my direction. I sipped my coffee and smiled sideways - daydreaming about the hundred dollars I wished someone would spare me. I was broke to the penny in my pocket having spent my last two dollars on a coffee that I didnt really want but felt I needed considering I'm addicted to the way it temporarily cures my anxiety.
My morning was a direct representation of the thoughts that bounce around inside my skull colliding daily.
And I'm where I always find myself - uncomfortable in my pants with bulging thighs and heavy hips - confident only in talents that have proven their existence and the unrelenting inner whisper that I would be so much better off - thinner.
I walked across town between buses observing the musings of random strangers faces. Faces that wore random mixes of fear, happiness, love or guilt and depression like chosen outfits. Today it seemed like we all left the house in what we still had on after sleeping in yesterday's clothes. There is an inherent disheveled quality about people regardless of their attention to grooming as they carry a weathered concept of themselves wherever they go.
I was on the subway and I suppose I left my umbrella on the seat as I got up to leave the train but before I stepped off, I decided I would rather get off at the next stop. The man sitting across from me did not realize I had not exited the train and in a panic, he grabbed it from the seat and left the train to chase me down and give me back my umbrella. Good Samaritans are hard to come by - but in this city, it rains almost everyday and if rain was measured like inflation, umbrella employment rates would be soaring. Not sure how that pans out to explain the value of the commodity - I dropped econ in first year university - lets just say - the kid was a good guy and the umbrella was worthless.
Seeing this happen before my eyes, I lept off the train and ran after him - running after me.
I yelled something like "here I am" and he stopped running. We stood facing each other on the platform. I was laughing and breathing hard from running. I could tell he did not realize that he had just then caused both of us to unnecessarily get off at the wrong stop. I didn't say anything but kept walking with the flow of people out the exit and onto the street. He did the same thing - which made me wonder later if he had been too proud or too lazy to wait for another train.
His clothing was confidence. Thats all I remember.
But you and I both know how fake confidence can be.
Perhaps it would be more practical to say - his coat was made of confidence, I didn't get a glimpse of what was underneath.
And I felt fat the entire time.