I watched a man the other day and boy was he angry. His arms were flailing all around like the inflatable blow up prop that auto dealerships use to attract attention. He was dressed in layers and his beard looked unkept, his shoes were worn and the cap on his head was dirty and badly torn. As I walked towards him, I noticed his face was as red as the scarf around his neck. I stood to the side as he screamed at no one in particular, rambling about how insensitive life is and how preoccupied we are with our own lives to give a crap about his. Preaching his good word that humanity needed a makeover and one day we would need something from him. I watched as passersby pretended like he didn’t exist and if they walked fast enough and didn’t look directly at him maybe just maybe he would disappear. I couldn’t help but wonder what the fuss was all about so I made my way over to him only to find out that he was angry because some poor guy refused to give him a dollar. “A freakin dollar, what’s a measley dollar?” he yelled. I’d be angry too, I thought. So I gave him a dollar because one day when I’m angry, I may need something from him.