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Here is one story retold, albeit with a pithier ending:
From Late Bloomer:
What happened: In junior high I was a late bloomer, and as such I was always cautious when changing in the locker room with the other guys. A jerk in the locker room picked up on this and decided to pick on me. He taunted me by saying "You hardly qualify for the men's locker room. That's the d*** you were born with."
What I said: I covered up and muttered angrily under my breath.
What I SHOULD have said: "What, you weren't born with yours?"
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!