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Here is one story retold, albeit with a pithier ending:
What happened: Well, one day I was sitting in class talking to this girl, that i really, really liked. We ended up discussing her having dated the class a**hole, and she said to me, "Well, I prefer to date nice guys now." and she was single at the time, and gives me a pointed look, as if to say, "Ask me out you dolt!"
What I said: Umm, yeah thats good for you
What I SHOULD have said: So, how about it then?
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!