GEORGE: . . . I thought the woman was kind of cute.
JERRY: Hold it. I really want to be clear about this. Are you talking about the woman in the meeting? Is that the woman you're talking about?
GEORGE: Yeah, I thought I might give her a call. I, I don't meet that many women. I meet like three women a year. I mean, we've been introduced. She knows my name.
While at home I over Christmas I was up late at night with my buddy Rylo, who was in the midst of quite a vomiting performance, him being hit with the same virus that had attacked each one of us throughout the week. As I watched him sprint to the bathroom to unleash hell every few minutes, I spied a big chocolate cake on the kitchen island. It being one in the morning and completely unhealthy in every way possible, I wrestled with having a slice, and I actually found myself arguing in the same way as George in the scene above:
Xmas: "I mean, it's a chocolate cake, just sitting there...how many times do I get an opportunity to just cut up a slab of great chocolate cake throughout the course of a year? Once, MAYBE twice if I'm lucky?...."
So of course I dug in and had a slice and was immediately reminded of the George moment. Sigh. Life. Really does come down to Costanza, don't it?
Betty Crocker, available year round on your grocer's aisle. Bake your cake and eat'r too. Still, better to wait for those golden Costanza moments. So did ja?
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