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Here is one story retold, albeit with a pithier ending:
Jealous of you?
What happened: I had a good friend in my first few years of high school. At one point, she became friends with another girl named (well, let's call her Jenny). My friend one day started hanging around a guy named Dean. I didn't even know him or had heard of him, he just appeared.
She walked off with him, and I was sitting at a table with her other friend.
(Mind you, this friend was older and more popular (see: slutty) and I already had insecurities.)
I asked Jenny, (honest, this is all I said) "How did Kate (my friend) meet Dean?"
Jenny's famous response: "You know what? I know you're jealous of Kate because she's prettier and thinner than you, but I am so sick and tired of your whining"
(Note, I never talked to her, let alone complained about Kate)
What I said: I just got up and walked away, completely shocked and horrified. (I later learned that she used to go out with Dean, that's why she snapped on me.)
What I SHOULD have said: Go have more sex so you feel needed and loved since you're obviously not, b*tch.
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!