“That’s a lovely dress you have on. Is it new?”
“Yes, it is MaxMara, it is a runway piece. It is the latest high fashion,” she replies delighted by my compliment and the opportunity to boast about its origins and exclusivity.
“Is that so? I saw the very same dress last year when I attended that fashion show in Milan.”
“No you didn’t?” she will answer. Note how her reply was not a statement but it was a question. Straight away I have my bite. She is not so confident as to issue a full-blooded rebuttal. All I have to do is keep telling her that I did see it last year, embellish it with the name of a famous model and keep repeating the circumstances so my conviction seems absolute. Any criticism of her fashion selection will reduce her to tears and have her running from the room. If I receive any withering stares from her friends or my family, I will shrug and say,
“Hey, I wasn’t the one who was telling a lie was I by saying it was the latest high fashion was I?” Nifty piece of blame-shifting there as well. They can shake their heads and tut all they like but I know I have landed a blow. By the time she returns having found some verification from a third party that her attire is the latest dress to wear from MaxMara the moment has passed and triumph has eluded her. It is easy and I get the reaction I am looking for.
I have a colleague who thinks he is an expert on the Tudor dynasty. I will throw him the occasional obscure fact and back it up with obstinate insistence and an almost slavish devotion to confirming I am right. He cannot stand it and it send him into a rage. He literally stamps his feet in exasperation. I usually choose to do this when he has no method of verifying what I am saying. Days later when he tries to correct me I brush him aside and give him no opportunity to speak. It does not matter then. I got my catch earlier and by telling a whopper I landed a whopper.