Is This Anything?

by Jerry Seinfeld

Now, I get whatever I want in the supermarket. The whole cart is filled with things that I want. And if I decide I don’t want something, I put it back wherever I am in the supermarket. There’s no rules in the supermarket.

No matter how little you work out—you’re too strong. And no, I don’t throw it out. I put it back in the refrigerator. In case I get an urge for a sixteenth of an oatmeal cookie.

Two things I’ve noticed: There’s a lot of jobs in the world. And there’s a lot of coffee. Every building I’ve ever been in has coffee.

“Would you like a cup of coffee?” “Can we get you some coffee?” “How about coffee?” “Fresh coffee?” “Had coffee?” “Need coffee?” “More coffee?”

This guy’s wanted in 12 states. All right… Now what? I check the guy standing in line behind me. If it’s not him, that’s pretty much all I can do.

What amazes me about the newspaper is that somehow, every day, no matter what goes on in the world, it exactly fits the number of pages they’re using in the paper that day. How does that always work out? They never have big blank spots where nothing happened. Never have to cram things in the margins because there’s too much occurring.

“You know, I was thinking about being the most powerful person in the world.” You go, “Uh-huh… I was thinking about getting a hot dog.”

“Well, I guess I can fly now… I must have eaten some kind of a weird berry or something. I’m Super Moose. I must devote the rest of my life to fighting moose crime.”

Where they put their hand on your shoulder, “You know god has given you a special talent.” I remember a kid would put his hand on my shoulder so he could push me off the sidewalk into the bushes. “You know, god has given you a face for the bushes.”

How come talk show hosts never have any idea how much time they have? They’re always looking off camera… “Do we have time for this? How are we doing on time? Are we out of time?” IT’S YOUR OWN SHOW.

Why can’t they have subtitles for the plot? “Closed-captioned for the movie impaired.” I would go to these movies. Little lines pop up, “Don’t worry about this guy. He’s only in this one scene.” “Here’s the name of the other movie you can’t remember that you’ve seen this person in.” “This is too hard to explain. They’ll tell you in the parking lot.”

There definitely seems to be an age gap in the hiring policy at most movie theaters. They never hire anyone over 15 or under 80. So, the girl that sells the tickets, she’s 10. Then there’s the guy that rips it, he’s 102.

But then when they put him in the back of a police car, they always keep their hand on the top of his head. “You don’t want to hit your head on the edge of the door, there. That really hurts.”

If you’re a crook, how does it feel when you have to pay for something? Terrible, I would think… He throws a candy bar on the counter, “I could’ve stolen that… Today’s my day off.”

“Wait a minute… Isn’t that Johnson from Sales? Why, he’s skyjacked an EgyptAir 747. And he’s started throwing bodies out onto the tarmac one by one. I don’t know if that’s the kind of person we want heading up that new branch office.”

I definitely feel like I’ve grown up when I go shopping with my parents now. The roles have begun to reverse. Suddenly, I’m in charge and they’re completely disorganized, going all over the store.

“Yeah, this is a good car. This car goes left OR right. I need that feature.”

“I’m going to do something about this” instinct kicks in. “The hell with it. It’s not taking me anywhere anyway. I can go places walking by myself. That car was just holding me back.”

These guys take chances with your life for 5 bucks that you wouldn’t take for 5 million.

I’ve never once been in a New York cab that didn’t have the “Check engine” light on.

“We won! We won!” “No, they won. You watched. Just calm down. I saw the whole game. You did not play. It’s one of the main reasons they won.” People get into it like, if you beat the team from the other city, you win that city. It’s yours.

The Biathlon is a favorite of mine. Biathlon combines skiing and shooting a gun. How many alpine snipers are into this? Seems like two totally unrelated things. It’s like combining swimming and strangle a guy. You swim a lap, throttle a guy, kick turn, back across the pool.

The washing machine is like a nightclub for clothes. It’s dark, bubbles happening, they’re all kind of dancing around in there. Shirt grabs the underwear, “Come on, babe, let’s go.” You come by, open the lid, they all freeze. “Would you close the door, please? This is actually a private club… We have a dress code. It’s ‘Clothes Only.’ Nothing is allowed to be on anyone.” Sometimes I take the clothes out, they’re all twisted together. I don’t even want to know what happened.

The shower is the only real break you get in life. When you’re in the shower, it’s like you’ve left the world. When you’re asleep, they can bother you. But not when you’re in the shower. People call on the phone, other people have to answer… “Yeah, no… There’s no way anyone can reach him. He’s in the shower. I’m sorry. There’s nothing anyone can do.” And when you get out of the shower you’re still not available. “I’m going to have to call you back. I just got out of the shower. Don’t you understand? I JUST GOT OUT. I was naked, singing, rubbing myself all over. I’m not back to reality. I was living a complete fantasy life.”

What better place to dance than naked, on a slick surface, next to a glass door? The whole point of the shower is nothing matters when you’re in there. Unless someone flushes a toilet, that matters a great deal.

When we finished the series the celebration was much more like the over-drained marathoner than the sprinter. They do one weak little fist pump, not even above their head and then right into the aluminum blanket. The look on their face is, “Obviously, that was worth it. But also… a ridiculously long run.”

“Can you help me in any way?” “No. But we were the first ones here. Did you see our truck? ‘First Aid,’ that’s our motto. We do nothing. But we show up before anybody.”

“Oh, I suppose you couldn’t do this. No, no, don’t get up. Let ME clean up YOUR filth. Save your energy. So you can turn this place back into a disgusting rathole after I leave. You make me sick.”

“Oat bag… I get my oat bag now. It’s oat bag time for me…”

“We were just here! What was the point of that? This is where we were. That was the longest possible route you could take to get where you wanted to be. Why didn’t we just stay here? We would have been first…”

“Okay everyone, now remember, you got your tube coming down from the mouth. And that goes into your circle area. That’s pretty much all we know. That’s it for today. Don’t miss tomorrow.

That’s why they don’t say, “Do you take Bob Johnson to be your lawfully wedded husband?” They say, “Do you take THIS man?” Whoever’s standing there…

It’s all about listening. A lot of wives complain that their husbands do not listen… I’ve never heard my wife say this… she may have… I don’t know.

But here’s what I do know. Ladies, your husband wants to make you happy. He’s working on it. He’s planning it. And he’s thinking about it every second. But he cannot do it. Sometimes we do it. We don’t know how we did it. We can’t ask, “What did I do?”

When I was single I had married friends. I would not visit their homes. I found their lives to be pathetic and depressing. Now that I’m married, I have no single friends. I find their lives to be meaningless and trivial experiences. In both cases, I believe I was correct.

One of the things I did not know when I was single that I found out after I got married, is that every single day of my married life I would be discussing the tone in my voice. I was not aware, how often I speak, in the incorrect tone. I thought it was a marriage. Apparently, it’s a musical.

My favorite Non-statement is “I want to say.” “What time is that plane coming in…?” “I want to say… nine o’clock…?” “You want to say? Well, congratulations, I think you said it. What’s the name of the guy we’re supposed to pick up?” “I want to say… Karl.” “So, we have no chance of finding this person?” “Not to the best of my knowledge.” “Well, you never know. Time will tell. We’ll see what happens.”

The original idea of coffee was a 10-minute break in the middle of eight hours of work. We’re now drinking eight hours of coffee. Doing 10 minutes of work. And I think they’re more proud of the coffee.

Everybody on the news has that little earpiece. I notice it’s got that expandable, spiral phone cord that goes down their neck. But why would it need to expand? How far is this guy’s head going from the top of his shirt that he needs that much expanding wire? Is he a newsman or a kitchen phone?

No talent, skills or ability of any kind? Put on a fancy suit. Announce you’re running for office, and would like to be in charge of everything.

“Please pick up the garbage from around your seat after the movie.” “Oh, okay. Maybe I’ll bring my orange jumpsuit and wooden stick with a nail in it too. Maybe I’ll work my way down the highway after the credits roll.”

So, instead of experiencing the most poignant moment of my life, I’m thinking, “This is the greatest puppet show I’ve ever seen. It’s so lifelike. And it’s got my face in it.”

“Hey, look, three girls and a ferret. Let’s catch up and find out more.” “There’s two lesbians, a Rottweiler and a Korean kid. I want to meet them. Let’s congratulate them on those very specific choices.”

Because they know once our coat is off, that concludes our involvement with anyone or anything in the house.

My wife has been bringing our youngest one in the bed every night at 3 o’clock in the morning. This is another beautiful experience. It’s like sleeping next to a laundry bag that has a live goat tied up inside.

Why are your friends so annoying? These are the people you have chosen to be with. And yet, you cannot stand them. “Who’s going? How do we get there? When do we leave? Where is it again? Which car? My car? Your car? One car? Two cars? Your car’s too small. We can squeeze. Pick me up? Pick you up? It’s on the way. It’s the opposite direction. What time is the show?

7 o’clock. Who the hell has a show at 7 o’clock? This guy is ruining my entire life. Are we eating? Did you eat? I didn’t eat. I’m starving. I’m stuffed. I’ve been eating Jolly Ranchers all day. I need something solid.”

What an impressive accomplishment this is on your part. Got out of the house. Went somewhere. Did something. Dealt with all the natural obstacles of planning, arranging, difficult people, annoying friends, many of whom you’re sitting with right now. That for some reason required unnecessarily complicated back-and-forth communications about. “What about the tickets? Who’s got the tickets?” How many times have you heard the word “tickets” today? “Make sure you bring the tickets. I got the tickets. Don’t forget the tickets. We need the tickets.

What about their tickets? I don’t have their tickets. They’ve got to get their own tickets. I never got the money from the last time I got them tickets.” “I like to hold my own tickets.

When mine were little, getting them to sleep every night was like a Royal Coronation Silver Jubilee Centennial. That’s how many different steps and moments there were to it. It started with my wife and I picking up the back of their little bathrobes, and holding them off the floor, (taking one step at a time like holding a royal wedding gown) as we proceeded down the hall to the bathroom, for the brushing, flossing, plaque rinse and dental appliance ceremonies. Then to the bedrooms for the pillow arrangement blanket adjustment