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Here is one story retold, albeit with a pithier ending:
Crack is Whack
What happened: I was working one night at the reference desk in the library at my college. The senior librarian had just left a few minutes before his wife (whom I'd never met or spoken to) called and asked for him. She asked if her husband was still there, and after I replied no, she continued for 10 minutes to tell me about why she needed to speak with him, how she should have guessed he'd already left, and how she was going to wait until he got home to speak with him. I mumbled ok.... and said goodbye. Barely two minutes later she called back and in an excited voice proceeded to tell me how she had just walked outside and the sky was so beautiful and all the stars were shining and how she just NEEDED to tell someone all this and how she hoped I could get outside as soon as possible to see all of it because it was 'just magical'.
What I said: oh, ok, thanks. I will. Bye.
What I SHOULD have said: What the F*** are you On?
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!