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Here is one story retold, albeit with a pithier ending:
From Like I said:
Learned my lesson
What happened: I was driving down interstate 99, probably doing 70 or so. Of course, I was pulled over by a state trooper. After checking my driver's license, he asked if I knew how fast I was going, said I was lucky I didn't hit anyone, etc, etc. Then he added that he was going to have to give me a ticket.
What I said: Smart ass that I was back then, I replied: A ticket? Do you mean the to policeman's ball?
What I SHOULD have said: Will this hurt my chances of getting into the police academy?
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!