how are you doin?

there was a man with one leg, sitting in a wheelchair sitting outside, kitty-corner (that must be a midwesterner's word...) from the national city bank branch downtown. mind you, it's not quite 20 degrees outside, and who knows what the windchill is - i am shivering in my hoodie, northface fleece and gloves. i can hear the individual coins rattling in the cup he's shaking. i notice he's lifting himself up several steps to get into a food/marketplace area that is warm. then he looks at me.

all i can muster up is, "how are you doin?"

he sighs. "oh, hanging in there. that's all you can do."

i give my straight face and nod, then cross the street.

never saw him again. probably won't ever see him again.

seriously? "how are you doin?" is that it? is that all i can do? is that all i really did?