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Here is one story retold, albeit with a pithier ending:
Consider the source...
What happened: Two minutes to closing time, and two trashy girls walk in. We informed them that they would have two minutes to shop. They take five minutes to shop and come up with 2 bottles of Mountain Dew. They have 10 dollars and spend three more minutes trying to figure out how to get the cheapest pack of smokes, the Dew and use their change to buy cigarettes. We tell them to please decide quickly. They tell us that we need to find real jobs.
What I said: That will be ten dollars, have a night.
What I SHOULD have said: Hey, lady, this "fake" job allows me to feed my kids, pay my rent, and I'm able to buy gas, cigarettes, and pop without having to resort to paying with dimes and nickels, so screw you!
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!