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Here is one story retold, albeit with a pithier ending:
Birds, birds, birds.
What happened: I was at some party or other and got chatting to some of the other guests, one of whom I really got stuck into a conversation with. When the age-old question of "What do you do for a living?" came up, he told me that he was an Orthinologist - the study of birds (He, however, pronounced it wrongly, as the correct term is Ornithologist).
What I said: "I'm in marketing"
What I SHOULD have said: "Oh, you're a word-botcher?"
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!