A bespectacled man who could be Harold Pinter

BESPECTACLED MAN: No, no, no. L’esprit d’escalier, the wit of the staircase…you know
those biting ripostes that are thought of just seconds too late, on the way out of the room.
Happens to me all the time. Happened to me the other day going down the escalator at
Goodge Tube Station, or, maybe it was Warren Street, but that‟s bye the bye. Anyway, I
suddenly thought of what I should have said to this cheeky young whelp of a reporter.
Do you know what she said to me "….you create an atmosphere of hesitation and
menace, yes, but don‟t you think this simultaneity of precision and vagueness that you
preset, are nothing more than terse disguises for malicious intention.‟

Talk about audacious.The bloody cheek of it! So I am going down the escalator and I suddenly think of just what would have put her in her place, but now the chance had gone. Something ineffably sad about
 that, when it is past the time when the arrow could sting its victim. So, you stew in your own
juice because that chance for singeing repartee is gone forever. Especially galling when you
are a wordsmith.

Extract from the play by Peter Cheevers
The Mysterious Ambassador from the Real World



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