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Here is one story retold, albeit with a pithier ending:
What happened: During Resident Assistant training my junior year of college the hottest guy ever was included in our group of 120 or so newbies. He was Japanese and Scottish, I believe, and seriously the hottest thing to walk into my line of vision ever. We were in a classroom waiting for a group exercise to begin - I was somehow, by some miracle, seated next to him. I tried to keep my eyes focused only directly in front of me but somehow, the one time I looked his way he locked eyes with me and said "Hey, I like your glasses."
What I said: "They're prescription."
What I SHOULD have said: "Oh thanks! I really like your shirt, it looks good on you. Where'd you get it?" or "Hey, thanks, I think you're hot, want to go for some coffee after this?"
The French call it l'esprit d'escalier, "the wit of the staircase," those biting ripostes that are thought of just seconds too late, on the way out of the room-or even, to tell the truth, days later. It's happened to you: you've suddenly thought of just what would put your foe in his or her place, but past the time when the arrow could sting its victim. You've stewed in your own juice ever since, and the chance for singeing repartee is gone forever.
Or is it?
Dorothy Parker or Oscar Wilde may have had the rapier wit to tweak their tormentors on the spot, but for the rest of us, we offer the Internet's only L'esprit d'escalier web site!