The French, I think, have a phrase for the concept of thinking of the perfect thing to say, but too late to say it: esprit d’escalier, which I think means “in the spirit of the stairs” or “you think of it on the stairs walking away from the situation.” or something.
I have a couple of times where I said it when I should have that are worth sharing:
her (at work): It’s a beautiful day - I wish I was at the beach
me: I don’t really go to the beach; I am like a fine wine - either white or red.
her (archly): ah, but do you age well?
me (no idea where I got this): Yes, but only if I am kept on my side with a wet cork.
her: !!! (much chuckling ensues)
and:
The setup - Sunday morning, I am beyond hungover, but have driven up to the city to see my buddy’s Grad School intermural softball league play before we go get dim sum in Chinatown. He is the only truly good player. The opponent is ahead by a run or so, it’s the bottom of the last inning and my buddy is up to bat with 2 out and a couple of folks on base. There are a few other friends of the team around, but, being a Sunday morning, it is really quiet.
Me (sounding, loud, mushy and incoherent, kinda like Bill Murray in his prime - hey I was hungoever) -
"Steve, Steve - he’s our man;
If he can’t do it…
we’re fucked."
My buddy Steve drops the bat and collapses in laughter. The opposing teams infield starts really giggling. A few of the women in the stands look at me like I am Mr. Rude and endeavor to move as far away from me as possible. I belch.
(Steve got the hit, his team won, and we went to get dim sum…)