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Here is one story retold, albeit with a pithier ending:
From Madalyn Mils:
What happened: I was shopping with my grandma for school clothes and I needed khaki pants for school and so we found some and I tried them on. Let me just say that I play soccer and volleyball and I am not overweight. I'm not the most beautiful, washboard ab person but I am happey with my body. So I tried on these pants and I liked them. They fit comfortably and actually looked good. Well, when I stepped out of the dressing room she had a disgusted look on her face and she looked at them and said they looked too tight. I'm telling you, these pants were fine! I was feeling very uncomfortable and insecure and she kept going. She said, "you should start jogging." And she poked my hips.
What I said: I was so pissed and I couldn't believe that she said that so I just gave her a kind of mean look. The truth is, I was really hurt.
What I SHOULD have said: "I can't jog off heredity." That would have been sooo nice to see her reaction.
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!