May 2nd, 2004 | One Comment

Things We Wish We’d Said

On two occasions in the last week I have found myself wishing for the kind of quick wit and way with words that few are graced with.

On both occasions I have avoided confrontation, and walked away wracking my brains for a smarter riposte than the answer that I had offered.

On the first occasion, I was minding my own business, supping a Red Stripe and observing the talent on a nightclub dancefloor. I would admit that on the outside I may have given the impression that I was not particularly in a particularly good mood (alcohol seems to reduce my display of enthusiasm even more than when sober), but I did not feel that the guy who approached me was justified in calling me a “grumpy c***”.

A quicker and soberer mind may have retorted with something along these Churchillian lines:

I, good sir, maybe grumpy, but you are short, bald and ugly, and I shall cheer up in the morning…

Instead, I decided on the slightly more succinct:

F*** off, mate, just leave me alone.

The second occasion, I was equally as biting, after being cussed for using the hand-dryer in the gents and thus making it difficult for some guy to continue his inane mobile phone conversation.

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