As I sit watching TV on my own I start flicking about the channels. There is nothing interesting, as is always the case at 11pm, so I just plump on whatever I see next. It appears to be some early nineties drama/comedy type programme and frankly it looks rubbish, but at this point in time I’ll give anything a go.
As I begin watching I notice a young Jerry Seinfeld appear on my screen and wonder what the hell he’s doing in this horrendous programme. As the show continues it becomes clear that the premise is that the main characters somehow change appearance and can become each other. Suddenly Anne Hathaway appears in a bikini, but then suddenly turns into Seinfeld. This is weird, I start to wonder how this ever got commisoned…
As I sit and watch a man enters the room and sits down on the sofa next to me. I recognise him and in my mind I assume that he’s one of my brother’s friends. We sit and chat about the show, and we both realise that we’re fans of the show Seinfeld. It is really annoying me that I can’t remember this man’s name. We continue to chat about our favourite Seinfeld episodes and then he catches sight of the show that’s on TV. “This was the first series of Seinfeld, you know”. I sit in stunned silence and stare blankly at my TV. This was the first series of Seinfeld?! I refuse to believe it. The man goes on, “Yeah, Jerry went on this weird direction with the first series and he packed loads into it, that’s why the later series are about nothing”. With that statement he upped and left.
A little while later my brother appears. He enquires about what I’m watching. I tell him that it’s the first series of Seinfeld. “I’ve never seen this, I basically refuse to watch it”. I can see why.
“I was just watching it with this guy, I think he was a friend of yours. He was short, bit plump, balding” .. “Hmm, could be my mate from uni Paedo Pete, studied abroad with Katie Price”… “No, definitely not him, he had glasses on”. My brother has no idea who this man was. It was only as I look back at the TV that I realise that I’d been sat watching TV with George Costanza. George. Bloody. Costanza. How had this not clicked with me before? My brother refuses to believe me, which is understandable. I sit and wish I could watch TV with George Costanza every day.