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Here is one story retold, albeit with a pithier ending:
Gosh, no thanks
What happened: While vacationing in Miami I was hanging out with some friends late into the night. We stopped to get some food before we crashed at the hotel. Just before we leave, a group of girls sits across from us and starts batting their eyes at us trying to get our attention. They were not exactly cute so we were trying to ignore them. We get up to leave and they start to "psst" and wave at us so we go over to their table. They started a conversation and basically asked if we wanted to hang around until they finished eating and go back to their hotel. By then I was tired and sober so a resounding "HELL NAH" echoed through my head.
What I said: I was trying to be nice so I told them I had a girlfriend and I was being faithful to her. That they made jokes about me and somehow embarrased me.
What I SHOULD have said: Do I look like a f***ing rhinocerrous? Hell no you Bebop & Rocksteady lookalike, monkey mouth having, sea-donkies!!!
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!