The Puffy Shirt

Jerry:I'm moving back in with my parents.

Jerry:Yeah, I know what you're thinking. But hear me out. I'm calling it 'a bold new chapter.' I'm putting it on my resume.

Jerry:'Career objective: to live in my childhood bedroom and eat my mother's meatloaf while my father yells at the news in the living room.'

Jerry:It's not failure. It's a lifestyle rebrand.

Jerry:Moving back in with your parents is like being in prison. And when you finally move out, it's like getting parole. You know what I mean? It's the same thing. You're doing your time, following all the rules, and then one day they say, 'Okay, you can go.' But you know you could be back in here any minute if you screw up.

Jerry:You go back to your parents' house, you walk into your childhood room, and it's like you're Godzilla. You're this giant monster and all the furniture is tiny. You sit on the bed, your knees are up by your ears. You open a drawer and your hand is like the size of the whole dresser.

Jerry:And your parents are standing in the doorway looking at you like you're gonna destroy the whole house. Like you're just gonna start crushing everything, picking them up like dolls.

George:My parents are not crazy! They're eccentric.

George:There's a difference. Eccentric is when you have a little money.

George:My father doesn't like the water. He's not afraid of it, he just doesn't like it. It's like he's got some kind of formal diagnosis: 'acute aquatic aversion disorder.'

George:Listen carefully. I'm only going to say this once.

George:She's never done the loud laugh. She's never done the snort laugh. She's never done the laugh where she throws her head back. She's never done the laugh where she slaps the table. She's never done the laugh where she doubles over. She's never done the laugh where she cries. She's never done the laugh where she can't catch her breath.

Jerry:So your mother, she never gets happy?

George:Happy? I don't think I've ever seen her happy.

Jerry:Never? Not once?

George:Well, there was that one time... she seemed content for about five minutes.

Jerry:Content? What happened?

George:The electricity went out.

Jerry:I'll lend you the money.

George:You will? Just like that?

Jerry:Yeah, sure.

George:You know, lending money is a lot like sex.

Jerry:How so?

George:Well, it's awkward at first, but after you do it a few times it becomes natural. And if you don't do it for a while, you get a little rusty.

Elaine:You should move in with Kramer.

George:Move in with Kramer? Are you insane?

Elaine:Why not? He's got a great apartment.

George:Elaine, the man has a toilet in his kitchen.

Kramer:It's not in the kitchen, it's in the bathroom. The kitchen just happens to be right there.

Frank:I got a funny joke for ya!

Jerry:No.

Frank:So I'm at the cashier, right? And the guy says to me...

Jerry:Dad, that's not a joke, that's a story. There's a big difference.

Jerry:I'm not eating bologna. I don't like bologna.

Estelle:What do you mean you don't like bologna? Everybody likes bologna.

Jerry:I can't just hand out sandwiches like some kind of sandwich guy. What if someone doesn't like their sandwich? What if they think I chose poorly for them? I'm not a sandwich sommelier.

Jerry:She's a low-talker. I can't hear a word she says. It's like she's got a voice that only dogs can hear.

George:A low-talker? What do you mean?

Jerry:She talks so quietly. You're constantly going 'What? What did you say?' It's exhausting.

Elaine:Oh, I know someone like that! You end up just nodding and smiling, pretending you understood.

Jerry:Exactly! And Kramer, he's completely smitten. He's leaning in, cupping his ear... it's pathetic.

Kramer:She's a pirate!

Kramer:I'm telling you, pirate fashion is due for a comeback. The eye patch, the hook hand, the wooden leg — it's all coming back. Mark my words.

Jerry:Yes, yes, absolutely. Mm-hmm. I see what you're saying. Right, right. That makes total sense.

Frank:Why don't you just tell her the truth?

George:The truth? Frank, I can't tell her the truth! What am I gonna do, walk up to her and say 'Hi, remember me? I'm the guy who lied about everything'?

Frank:You know, I've been thinking about my life, my career, what I've accomplished... and it's all meaningless.

Frank:But you know what IS meaningful? My coin collection. I've got a 1952 nickel that's worth at least thirty cents.

Frank Costanza:Why don't you get a job at the post office, George?

George Costanza:The post office? I'm not working at the post office!

Frank Costanza:What's wrong with the post office? It's a good job.

George Costanza:A good job? It's the post office, Frank! I'd rather be dead!

Frank:I can't use them! I see a silver dollar, my whole body shakes. I can't breathe. I get dizzy. I think I'm gonna pass out.

Frank:I can't spend it. What if I need it? What if there's an emergency and I need a silver dollar?

George:I'm out there, Jerry, and I'm lovin' every minute of it. I got a system. I know how to work these people. I got moves.

Frank Costanza:These aren't just coins, they're silver dollars! Do you know what silver dollars are worth? I've been keeping them in a safe deposit box for years. Years!

Frank Costanza:I could've retired on these! But no, I had to spend them on... what did I spend them on? Bricks? A birdfeeder?

Frank Costanza:You know what? I'm getting back into it. Silver dollars. That's my thing now. Forget about everything else. Silver dollars!

Frank Costanza:The service here is terrible! Did you see how long it took them to get water? They're out to get me, I'm telling you. This whole place is a setup!

George:I'm sorry, I didn't see you.

Woman:You made me spill my coffee all over myself!

George:I didn't make you spill it. You spilled it.

Woman:Because you bumped into me!

George:Yes, but the actual spilling? That was all you.

George:I'm out there, Jerry, and I'm loving every minute of it.

George:My name is George. I'm unemployed and I live with my parents.

George:I'm currently sitting here naked eating pastrami from the salami slicer.

George:And I think that's pretty good.

Hand Model Agent:Your hands are perfect. I've never seen hands like these before.

George:Really?

Hand Model Agent:You could be a hand model. My father was a hand model.

George:A hand model?

Hand Model Agent:Yes. You know, it's not much, but it's honest work.

Jerry:So what's so special about these hands?

Kramer:Yeah, I don't see anything unusual.

Elaine:They look like regular hands to me.

Jerry:I mean, they're not particularly large or small...

Kramer:The fingers are normal length.

Elaine:The nails are nothing special.

Jerry:So what exactly are we looking at here?

Jerry:Your hands are not that bad.

George:Not that bad? Jerry, look at them. They're like a couple of melons on a stick.

Jerry:They're fine hands.

George:Fine? My fingers are stubby, my palms are clammy, and don't even get me started on my cuticles. I have the hands of a dock worker.

George:I'm proud of my hands. They're strong, they're clean, they've never done a hard day's work in their life.

Kramer:What is this?

George:Don't touch that! That's mine! Put it down! PUT IT DOWN!

Elaine:Let me see your hands.

George:Why do you want to see my hands?

Elaine:I just want to see them.

George:These are not hands for show. These are working hands. You don't just take them out and display them like some museum piece.

Elaine:Your hands are so soft. They're like a woman's hands. I mean, they're really soft. Look at these nails—they're perfect. And your skin, it's so smooth. I've never felt hands like this before.

George:I'm not taking any chances with these hands. They're my livelihood.

Jerry:George, you're wearing oven mitts to a coffee shop.

Jerry:What's with the oven mitts?

George:I'm not taking any chances with my hands. These are money makers.

Jerry:Wait, what are you talking about? I never agreed to anything.

Kramer:Oh come on, Jerry. Leslie told me you were completely on board with the whole thing.

Jerry:I don't even know what the whole thing is!

Kramer:See, that's the thing about you, Jerry. You agree to stuff and then you don't even remember it.

Jerry:What is this? I would never wear a shirt like this!

Kramer:You agreed to it.

Jerry:I did not agree to this! Look at it! It's a pirate shirt!

Kramer:You signed the release.

Jerry:I didn't read it! Why would I wear something like this? Who wears a shirt like this?

Jerry:This is the shirt that I'm supposed to wear? I mean, look at this thing. It's like a cloud took human form and decided to become a garment. Why is it so puffy? Who needs this much fabric? And the collar—what is this, a pirate convention?

Kramer:Jerry, mark my words — pirate fashion is going to make a huge comeback. It's the next big thing.

Jerry:Pirate fashion? What are you talking about?

Kramer:You'll see. And when it does, you're going to be the face of it. The pirate guy.

Jerry:I don't want to be the pirate guy, Kramer.

Kramer:So what do you think? A pirate adventure show. We could call it 'Seinfeld on the High Seas.'

Jerry:No.

Estelle:I always said you had beautiful hands. They're so smooth and delicate... like a girl's hands. Milky white.

George:Ma!

George:Whoa, whoa, whoa! What are you doing? You're gonna take my eye out with those things!

George:You can't just hand scissors to someone like that. There's a protocol. You hold them by the blades, point first toward yourself, and hand them over carefully.

George:Do you know how many people lose eyes every year to scissor-related incidents? Thousands! Thousands, Jerry!

George:You know, I read somewhere that arguing releases toxins into the air. We're all gonna die. So maybe we should just... not argue.

George:My hands are a gift. I've always known that. But I never thought I could actually make money with them. And now, suddenly, I'm a hand model. It's like my whole life has been leading to this moment.

George:I wake up in the morning, I look at my hands, and I think, 'These are money makers.' I treat them like they're made of glass. I don't do any manual labor. I wear gloves when I do the dishes.

George:I'm thinking of getting a personal hand trainer. Someone to work with me on finger flexibility, nail health, moisturization regimen. This is a professional career now. I'm not just some guy with nice hands anymore.

TV Person:This is a beautiful shirt. You know, I don't think I've ever seen a shirt like this before.

Jerry:Thank you.

TV Person:It's like you're sailing.

Elaine:Why won't you just call her back?

Jerry:I can't call her back, I don't know what she said! She's a low-talker. I'm on the phone going 'What? What? What?' My brain is on fire trying to figure out what she's saying.

Elaine:You can't come out dressed like that. You're all puffed up. You look like the Count of Monte Cristo.

Elaine:The swashbuckling imagery

Hand Model Agent:Your hands are a surgeon's dream.

George:They're very nice hands.

Hand Model Agent:I'm gonna get you work.

George:Really?

Hand Model Agent:Oh yes. I know several catalog houses that would kill for hands like these.

Estelle:They're really very nice hands, George.

Frank:Giddy-up!

Hand Model Agent:You know, there was a hand model... went mad. Absolutely mad. Had the best hands in the business. Real fingers, real nails, real cuticles. But one day, he looked down at his hands and he just... broke. Just fell apart. Started seeing things that weren't there. The pinky started talking to him. Told him to do things.

Hand Model Agent:You know, I've been representing hand models for fifteen years. I've never seen hands like yours.

George Costanza:Really?

Hand Model Agent:Yeah, they're spectacular. But there's one thing I have to ask you.

George Costanza:What's that?

Hand Model Agent:You're not a... a... you know... a hand person, are you?

George Costanza:What do you mean?

Hand Model Agent:I mean, do you play with your hands? Do you admire them? Look at them a lot?

George Costanza:No, no, of course not.

Hand Model Agent:Because I had a client once, magnificent hands, but he was always touching them, looking at them... turned out he was in love with his own hands. Couldn't represent him after that.

Hand Model Agent:You know, Ray really loves himself.

Jerry:Yeah, well, he's very close with himself.

Hand Model Agent:I hadn't seen another pair of hands like Ray McKigney's until today. You are his successor. I only hope you have a little more self-control.

Hand Model Agent:His hands are ruined. Do you know what this means? He can't do hand modeling anymore.

George:What about Cub Scouts?

Hand Model Agent:He's the troop leader. They won't let him near the kids anymore.

George:I'm out.

Kramer:What?

George:I'm out. I can't do this.

Jerry:What happened?

George:I couldn't help myself. I'm very very sorry. I'm out.

Elaine:You're out? Just like that?

George:Yeah.

Elaine:How long did you last?

George:Five days.

Kramer:Five days?

Jerry:I'm very disappointed, George.

George:Yeah, well, I'm very ashamed. The important thing is that I'm not doing it anymore.

Elaine:You couldn't last five days?

George:It was a woman. She had this thing going on, and I just— I couldn't take it.

Bryant Gumbel:That's a bold choice of shirt, Jerry. Very... nautical. Arrr, matey!

Bryant Gumbel:You know, pirates are very popular right now. Kids love pirates. You should do a pirate act.

Jerry:A pirate act?

Bryant Gumbel:Yeah, you know, come out with an eye patch, a parrot on your shoulder. 'Arrr, matey!' That kind of thing. You'd kill.

Jerry:I don't think that's really my thing, Bryant.

Jerry:You know what? I'm gonna be honest with you. You're not funny. You never were funny. And frankly, I don't think you ever will be funny.

Leslie:What?

Jerry:I've sat through your act a hundred times. It's painful. It's like watching someone die slowly on stage.

Leslie:AAAHHHHHHH!!!

Jerry:She's furious that we can't hear her.

Bryant Gumbel:But we can hear her screaming about not being heard.

Leslie:You're a liar and a cheat!

Jerry:I'm a liar and a cheat? You're the one who said you were a marine biologist!

George:My hands look like they belong to a man in his early thirties.

George:These are not the hands of a guy who sells low-rent jewelry!

George:I'm a hand model, Jerry. A hand model!

Frank:This is a beautiful shirt. You know, I've been around the world, I've seen a lot of things, but this... this takes the cake.

Random New Yorker · Jerry:What is this? Is this what you wore on the show? — Yeah. — Have you completely lost your mind? — Hey. — Who's dressing you? You look like a complete idiot. — I wouldn't wipe my...

Hand Model Agent:You know, we had a hand model once. McKigney. Very successful. Very successful indeed.

Hand Model Agent:Then one day, he went in the sun. Now he's doing promo work at the A&P.

George · Kramer:How do you forget to turn off an iron? — I was excited Jerry was putting on the puffy shirt.

Homeless Person:Why are you all staring at me? What's wrong with this shirt? It's a nice shirt!

George:That's the puffy shirt!

Kramer:The puffy shirt! The puffy shirt!

Elaine:The puffy shirt!

Jerry:The puffy shirt!

Homeless Person:Ahoy, matey! Got any spare change for an old sea dog?

Homeless Person:I've sailed the seven seas and all I got was this lousy puffy shirt and empty pockets!

Kramer:What's wrong with the puffy shirt? It's comfortable, it's stylish...

Jerry:Kramer, you look like you're about to go canoeing.

Kramer:So? What's wrong with that? It's a good look.

George:You look like the Michelin Man.

Kramer:You guys have no sense of fashion. This is the future of clothing.

Jerry:You know what I hate? When someone mumbles and you have to say 'What?' three times, and then you just give up and laugh like you heard the funniest thing ever. Why do we do that? Why can't we just say, 'Hey, you gotta speak up, buddy. You're mumbling like you're in witness protection.'

Jerry:But no, instead I'm standing there nodding like I understood, apologizing for not hearing them clearly. I'm the one apologizing! They're the mumbler! That's the fantasy right there — one day I'm just gonna turn to someone and say, 'Look, I'm not gonna pretend anymore. You mumble. It's not me, it's you.'

Homeless Man:Puffy shirt. Puffy shirt. — Can you spare a little change for an old buccaneer?

Jerry:You know, it's really not a bad-looking shirt.

Jerry:Why do we always have to say, 'Excuse me' when we can't hear what someone's saying? Why are we so guilty and so... 'Excuse me. Pardon me. I'm sorry.' Why can't, just once, I go: 'Nope. Not loud enough'?

Jerry:Just once I would like to have the guts, you know, to make that judgment. Someone mumbles something, and you go, 'Your fault. I'm not sorry, because it's your fault.'