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Here is one story retold, albeit with a pithier ending:
Short boys give bad excuses
What happened: I asked this guy to my sorority formals, and he said yes. A few days later he IMed me and said he couldn't go because he had to bring his friend to the airport, which I called him out on. He then said he just wanted to spend the time with his brothers that were graduating. I later found out he was going with another one of my sisters. When we got there he walked right up to me and said, "hey, how have you been."
What I said: Hey. I thought you couldn't come.
What I SHOULD have said: Hey. I thought you had to go to the airport. Oh wait, that was a lie. No it was you wanted to spend time with your brothers. oh wait, looks like that was a lie too. Hmm... I don't know how i figured that out seeing as you think i am stupid, you *ss
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!