And the Award for Best Comeback Goes To. . .

Nothing is more of a letdown than thinking of a good comeback too little too late. I’ve only experienced one moment where I even came close to victory. I’ll talk more about that later. First, I’d like to share the best comeback I’ve ever had the pleasure of witnessing.

The setting was Wildwood, NJ. I was 18 years old, hanging “down the shore” for the weekend with a group of girlfriends. We got all gussied up and proceeded toward the boardwalk. We passed a frat house of sorts, replete with drunken guys hanging out on the porch waving their red solo cups with pride. One of these prizes called out to us, “Hey, ladies, there’s a party in my pants!” Without skipping a beat, one of our girls calmly replied, “Sorry, guys, we’re not into small gatherings.” Bam! All the rest of the guys started laughing at their friend’s damaged ego. It was truly a magical moment for comebacks.

With that, I have only channeled one moment that has even come close to my friend’s aforementioned quick-witted response. The year was 2003. At 30 years old, I had just obtained my driver’s license. Living in the city, I really didn’t need it until then. With my new to me 87’ Pontiac Grand Am, I proceeded to joyride to my happy place, Target. Lacking experience with pulling into spots, it took me a little while to straighten out the car. A car waited impatiently behind me. I have to point out that there were plenty of spots and this driver could have easily gone around me. Instead, she chose to stalk the spot next to me. Finally, we both park and get out of our cars. I was wearing pigtails so she must have mistaken me for a younger woman. With attitude that only a South Philly woman can spit out, she says, “If I was your mother, I’d take away your license.” She seemed pretty proud of herself until I quickly responded, “If you were my mother, I’d be ugly.” In silence, she stormed away. Yes, my moment of victory was sweet and triumphant; however, never to be replicated. But I can dream of the day. . .

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