I Shouldn’t Relate to Costanza
There’s an episode of “Seinfeld” where George is hitting on this woman in a bar. He brings up that he is developing a sitcom for NBC, and she laughs in his face.
Then she motions to her friend that “this guy is writing a sitcom” and her friend laughs too. They walk out on him, as he stands there dumbstruck.
I never understood why that was so embarassing for him; I always thought writing for a sitcom would be a cool job.
Last Friday night, I’m at a party. I’m flirting with a girl - who just happens to be a medical student at Columbia University. She asks me what I do for a living.
The easy answer is “I’m unemployed,” but that never sounds good. So I talk about what I studied and why I moved to New York, and she cuts me off with:
“Wait… are you… are you a comedian?”
(Pause) “Uh, is that a bad thing?”
(Laughs in my face.)
In that moment, not really sure what to say next, my mind went to one place:
