A Conversation In the Streets of London

So I was debating with myself whether or not to post this, then figured what the heck. This isn't connected to anything, just a random scene. Any critics are welcome!
Happy Sunday, all!
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A Conversation In the Streets of London 

"Sorry."

The speaker was short and of such slight frame that he appeared to be barely more than an empty trench coat suspended in the air. The accent was American, which added to Will's irritation of being bumped into. (Foreigners cluttering up the place!) However, he recovered himself. Barraging with politeness, he neither scowled of said "That's quite alright", but simple accepted the apology by way of a nod, and turned away. Rainwater fell into his eye. He blinked. 

The Londoner continued walking, the sidewalk slick under his goulashes and mirroring the light of the lampposts. He was dully aware of the person's footsteps behind him, and it didn't raise much of his concern till after numerous blocks and several turns, they're pattering didn't let up. "What?" He spun around. "I know you're following me. And why are you, may I ask? Thought it would be amusing to play Sherlock Homes or something, did you?"

The trench coat quivered with a sigh."Of course not. British Literature is overrated." The comment stung Will, a student of British Literature, and stranger smirked as if he knew.

"You're evading my question."

"Oh! I, um--I thought you might like your wallet back." The young man produced the article from his coat and held it out to Will, who took it, mouth gaped. "My fingers are apparently stealthier than my feet." Will just stared. "I picked your pocket." the stranger said slowly as if the Brit was too dense to understand what had happened.

"Yeah, I get that," Will muttered as he rifted through his pocketbook, relieved to find it’s contents, a couple bills and his student ID, still inside.

"I'm an honest man." 

You're also an incredibly odd man.

As if to prove the inaudible point, the stranger wrung his hand and began to speak so fast his words nearly tripped over themselves."I happened to note that you don't have much cash in there so I thought I'd offer to buy you supper. It's chilly. I thought we could get some soup over there." He gestured with his head down to the cafe across the street.

"You must be insane," Will said flatly, editing an earlier thought: CRAZY foreigners cluttering up the place!

"Clinically, no. And I know--I've been tested. I just have phobias." 

"Such as?"

"It's a good thing it's a phobia of not question, isn't it? Because apparently it's impossible to talk to you without them. Well, if you must know it's of Eating Alone. I can’t eat alone. I can't do it. I can't get myself to eat anything while I'm by myself. It's an expensive phobia, you know. I've been traveling abroad for the three month and you wouldn't believe what it's cost me, buying random people meals just so I can stomach something myself."

Will blinked, but his eyes were empty of rainwater.“Couldn’t you just sit at a bar?”

“I hate bars. Grimy things."

The Londoner considered asking whether the fear of germs was among those phobias. Instead, he forced a cough, and little man sprang back a meter. Swallowing a laugh, Will decided to let the matter of irrational fears slide."Well, what about taking my pocketbook then? What's that all about?"

"I had to have some excuse to talk to you didn't I?"

"No, you didn't. And if you did, asking for direction, the time or some other--any--normal thing would have sufficed.”

"No, you don't understand. I had to. I have problem with approaching people, ya see? It's...well I guess you could call it a phobia of sorts.  I can’t start a conversation. Once someone’s talking to me and we're in a proper conversation I'm fine. But the approaching...." He grimaced. "I had to take your wallet, because then I'd have to come up and talk to you....eventually."

Without a word and with the stranger at his heels, Will crossed the watery street toward the cafe, wondering whether a strong black coffee would do anything to help wash down his disbelief.