For nine glorious seasons, we followed four friends on Seinfeld — Jerry Seinfeld, George Constanza, Elaine Benes and Cosmo Kramer — on the show about nothing. And amid the under-desk-naps, pig-men, and sponge-worthiness, Jerry was often pegged as the “normal” one.
Yes, Jerry. The guy who mugged an old lady and stole her marble rye. The guy who chose an impression of a talking belly button over a relationship.
My point is, Jerry was far from normal. In fact, if you had your choice between the main cast, you might be least served by living with Jerry. Think about it: George has a great answering-machine message, cool baseball posters, and loves to lounge on a massage chair — no stress there. Elaine might have some scary impromptu dance parties, but she’s got a ton of closet space so you’d probably make do. And living with Kramer would be (quite literally) a 24-hour hot tub in the living room party. Jerry? Dude’s got issues, and I’m not just talking about his propensity for nude power sanding, indoor cigar smoking, and past history with fleas in his apartment. Hear me out.