I was sitting at my desk today, quietly minding my own business, when one of my co-workers sauntered up to me. "So," he said smugly, pointing to my shirt, "I see you are wearing a Lacoste polo. Pretty expensive..." He trailed off.
"What's your point?"
"No point, just saying, the difference between your shirt and my shirt is that little alligator, and my shirt cost $50 less." If this guy was my friend, I would chuckle, agree with his sentiment, and call myself a label whore. But I don't like this guy. He annoys me. I don't ever approach him, but he always manages to find a reason to stop by and make some snide remark about the price of the clothes I am wearing. An insulting response was in order. But what sort of insult?
The best way to insult someone is to hit them where it hurts. Fat jokes work best on someone who is self-conscious about being fat. For example, I recently made a joke at my wife's expense, and she responded by making a comment about my slowly but surely expanding waistline, which I could not care less about. Her insult missed the mark. Later on, when it was my turn to return fire on her, I went for the jugular: The gray hair she found. My retort was as effective as hers was ineffective.
But what could I insult that would hit him close to home? His children, of course. "You know those two kids that you are always talking about? I don't have any. In their place, I have disposable income, so I can afford all the overpriced polo shirts I want."
He looked at me in disbelief, forced out a fake laugh, and walked away. Was that a really dick thing to say? Sure. But my Lacoste shirts are like my babies, and I won't stand to have them insulted.
