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Here is one story retold, albeit with a pithier ending:
The Brandy Blues
What happened: One night my friend and I had been drinking a lot of Brandy and decided, being so nice out to walk to the local college terrace.
At one point there was this really attractive girl who came out and sat on the steps of this building that we were outside of. She sat down by herself and tilted her head down looking kind of sad.
I, who almost never has enough confidence to talk to attractive girls went up and sat down next to this one.
I asked her why she seemed so sad. She told me that she was not, and that she just needed some air from all the smoke inside.
We then talked for awhile, and according to my friend (and a random girl who had observed) she was clinging to every word I said, and even twirling her hair while she looked at me.
Well a bus showed up and she said "so i'll see you around right?".
What I said: Yeah, absolutly... Have a good night.
What I SHOULD have said: I'd like that.... What's your phone number? (according to my friend I should of just got on the bus with her, but I just sat there dumb founded)
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!