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Here is one story retold, albeit with a pithier ending:
From P.D.Q. Bach:
Young enough to know enough
What happened: A friend of mine and I were in a bookstore and she was talking about a recently released lis to the 100 best comedies compiled by some basic cable channel. She was astonished that the Marx Brothers, Dr. Strangelove, The Graduate, or The Apartment were not on the list. Even more astonishing, she said, was that The Wedding Singer was in the top ten. It's a fine film to be sure, but not one of the top ten comedies of all time. A man with a creepy mustache who had been eavesdropping said, "You must have been born in the eighties, which is why you don't get The Wedding Singer, right? You don't understand the references, because you were born in the eighties." This was naturally insulting to us.
What I said: She muttered, "Yeah, well... what can you do?" And I tried to look sufficiently affronted, but nothing came to me.
What I SHOULD have said: "Yes, we were born in the eighties, but how does that prevent us from understanding the jokes in the film? That's why there's history. You know, the Marx Brothers weren't on that list. Have you ever heard of the Marx Brothers? They made films in the thirties. You probably weren't alive then."
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!