My appetite was beginning to wane... and it occurred to me that perhaps some of this cultural erosion of common decency and fundamental self - respect could somehow be blamed on the invention of the cell phone. I mean.. think about it.. back in the old days of rotary and push button phones these sorts of conversations more commonly took place in the privacy of your own home and were rarely overheard by random strangers on the streets.
I remember thinking that maybe that's how the real hell works - an unbearable stretch of torment and misery which is really nothing more then a Purgatory of sorts, intended only to lull you into thinking that it's not so bad after all and that you might actually be able to survive it... before satan opens the door and you get kicked in the face with the REAL hell.
I gave the driver a "please give me a second to wrestle my bag away from this drunk alligator" look and politely told this guy that it was no big deal... I could fix it when I got home... and that I hoped he'd have a nice day. It took him a second, but he came to understand that I was politely telling him to let the fuck go and back off.