The Busboy

Jerry:I don't understand all this fussing over food. It's just food. You put it in your mouth, you chew it, you swallow it. That's it. Why does everyone have to make such a big deal about every little thing they eat?

Jerry:Just eat it and shut up.

Jerry:I'll eat anywhere. I don't care. You know, I'm not picky.

George:Oh, that's a lie. You won't eat at Monk's if they don't have the right bread.

Jerry:That's different. That's about the bread.

George:You won't eat Chinese food unless it's from Szechuan Palace.

Jerry:I like their food!

George:You turned down an invitation to Elaine's birthday dinner because they were going to that new sushi place.

Jerry:I don't like sushi!

George:My point exactly. You have all these rules. You say you'll eat anywhere, but you won't eat anywhere. You're very particular.

Jerry:I'm not particular, I just know what I like.

Jerry:What kind of maniac poisons rolls? And who would they be trying to kill? 'I'm gonna get those comics!' How specific is that? You'd have to really hate comedy. 'I'm poisoning the rolls at the comedy club because I can't stand laughter!' What's the plan here?

Jerry:Once upon a time, there was a check at a restaurant. And it was the most expensive check that had ever been written. The end.

Jerry:You know, I have a checkbook. And it has this little tassel on it. A tassel! Like I just graduated from the Check Writing Academy. Like I'm ready to go out into the world and write checks with confidence.

Jerry:The repetitive 'Pesto. Pesto. Pesto.'

Jerry:What is the deal with pesto? It's everywhere now. When did pesto become a thing? I mean, nobody knew about pesto ten years ago. Now it's on everything. You go to a restaurant, there's pesto on your chicken, pesto on your fish, pesto on your pizza. Where did pesto come from? Did somebody just discover it? Did some guy go, 'Hey, I got a great idea. Let's take basil, garlic, and pine nuts, and crush 'em all up together.' And somehow it became this thing that's on everything?

George:See that guy over there with the cap? I'm telling you, that's a hair transplant. You see how he's got that cap on? He's trying to hide it. The hair doesn't match. Look at the color — it's too dark compared to the sides. That's a transplant.

Jerry:George, it's just a cap.

George:No, no, no. I know hair transplants. I've studied them. The way they grow in, the angle, the density — that's not natural. He's self-conscious about it, that's why he never takes the cap off.

Kramer:You know, it's like when you get out of the shower and you use conditioner. You leave it on your hair for a few minutes, right? Well, that's what I do with my car. I let it warm up for a few minutes.

Jerry:You condition your car?

Kramer:Yeah! It keeps it soft and manageable.

Jerry:You know what Seattle is? It's like pesto. Nobody knew what it was five years ago, everybody's eating it now, and in five more years nobody's going to care about it anymore.

George:They're not even having relations.

George:She's a tattoo! She's a tattoo!

Jerry:What are you talking about?

George:You know, like a tattoo. Once it's on you, it never goes away. It's permanent. She's like this indelible mark on my life.

Jerry:There's a fire and all I can think about is free dessert.

George:I could get this guy fired. One word to the manager, he's gone.

George:But what if he retaliates? What if he comes after me?

George:He could hurt me. He could hurt my family. My mother, my father, my sister.

George:He could kill us all.

George:You know, I have a theory about these ex-con busboys. They're very dangerous. They come out of prison, they're angry, they've got nothing to lose. So they take jobs as busboys, and they wait. They wait for their moment.

Jerry:Wait for what?

George:To snap! One wrong order, one guy asks for his eggs over easy instead of scrambled, that's it. They go off.

Jerry:The guy will get another job. There's no job requirements for a busboy. You don't need a resume. 'Hello, I'm here to bus tables.' 'You're hired!' That's it. It's the easiest job in the world to get.

George:I was a camp waiter. I had responsibility.

Jerry:Really? What kind of camp?

George:Fat camp.

Jerry:Fat camp?

George:Yeah, and those kids depended on me. They really depended on me.

Elaine:I got the busboy's number! I'm such a clever chickadee.

Elaine:Do I have charm?

Jerry:No.

Jerry:You know, George, with your organizational skills, you'd be perfect as a busboy.

George:A busboy? I'm not a busboy.

Jerry:Why not? You'd be great at it. You're always cleaning things up anyway.

George:That was one time at fat camp!

Kramer:The K-man is coming with you.

George:Kramer, you have to be quiet.

Kramer:Quiet? I'm always quiet.

George:No, you're not. You're loud. You're very loud.

Kramer:I'm not stupid, George. I've read books.

George:Y-yeah, yeah, you're a smart guy, Kramer. V-very smart.

Kramer:You speak Spanish?

Busboy:Sí.

Kramer:How do you say 'waterbed' in Spanish?

George:Well, I think I've said what I came to say.

Kramer:Yeah, well, before you go, how about getting us some drinks?

Kramer:Now they've lost his cat too

Kramer:You know, I had a cat once. Didn't see it for three years.

Kramer:Then one day, boom! There it was, in my apartment.

Kramer:So, you know, there's hope.

Kramer:The cat could be hit by a bus.

George:Now they've broken his lamp too

Kramer:It's up to the cat.

George:What do you mean it's up to the cat? The cat doesn't make the rules here. I make the rules. And rule number one is: you knock before you enter. You don't just walk in. That's chaos. That's anarchy. The cat understands this. The cat knows the protocol.

Elaine:You know, my car's been acting up. I'm thinking about getting rid of it.

Kramer:Oh, you gotta get a new car. These old clunkers, they're unreliable.

Elaine:Yeah, well, if you ever leave your house guest stranded because of car trouble, I will kill you.

Elaine:I mean, he's a nice guy, but he's also a terrible person. He's considerate, but he's completely inconsiderate. He's smart, but he's an idiot.

Jerry:So you haven't been intimate?

Elaine:Well, I wanted to, but my shoes were too tight, and I couldn't get them off in time. Then my hair got caught in the lamp, and by the time I untangled it, he had already fallen asleep. Plus, his apartment was really cold, and I didn't want to take off my coat.

Elaine:You know what I need? An alarm clock that hits you. Like, physically hits you in the face to wake you up.

Jerry:That's your alarm clock idea? Something that assaults you?

Elaine:Yes! Because nothing wakes you up like a punch to the face. You'd be up immediately. No snooze button needed.

Jerry:You miss a flight, that's it. There's no backup plan. They don't say, 'Well, we have a cannon in the back. We can shoot you to Cleveland.'

Jerry:You know, I was thinking about cannon travel. What are the safety regulations? Do you need a license? 'Cause I feel like that's something they should really nail down before you go shooting people out of cannons.

Jerry:I mean, there's gotta be paperwork, right? Insurance forms? 'Cannon Travel Waiver - Please initial here confirming you understand you may be launched into a wall.'

George:I'm telling you, we gotta move faster! We're gonna miss our flight!

Ed:Hold on, I need to find my good sunglasses.

George:Your sunglasses?! We're running late for the airport!

Ed:What? I'm not going to Miami looking like some kind of jerk.

Elaine:Where are you going?

Ed:Just a casual snack run during the crisis.

Elaine:What's wrong with shoes?

Ed:They're a conspiracy. Throughout history, shoes have been used to control the population.

Elaine:That's insane.

Ed:Is it? Why do you think feet were invented before shoes? Think about it!

Kramer:I know all the best public toilets in the city. There's this one in a building on 53rd Street, very clean, very nice. The thing is, you gotta know the guy.

Jerry:You gotta know the guy?

Kramer:Yeah, his name is Poppie. You tell him Kramer sent you, he'll let you use the executive washroom.

Kramer:You know, I was at the Met the other day, and I gotta tell you, they have the most beautiful bathrooms.

Jerry:The Met? You went to the Metropolitan Museum of Art for the bathrooms?

Kramer:Are you kidding? Marble, brass fixtures, those little French soaps. It's like going to the bathroom in a palace.

George:So what are you saying? We should rate cultural institutions based on their bathroom quality?

Kramer:I'm saying that's a review I'd read. 'Four stars for the Impressionist collection, and five stars for the facilities.'

Elaine:I'm not a bad driver. I just have a very heavy foot. It's like, I'm creating my own gravitational field or something. Everything around me is being pulled toward my bumper.

Elaine:I'm telling you, getting across town during rush hour is like an epic quest. You've got your obstacles, your challenges, your moments where you think you're not going to make it.

Jerry:So what, you're Frodo and the FDR Drive is Mordor?

Elaine:Exactly! And don't even get me started on the Lincoln Tunnel. That's the Mines of Moria right there.

Elaine:He's still here looking for parking.

George:You know, I've been thinking about what I did to that busboy. I feel terrible about it.

Jerry:George, you spilled soup on him. It's not like you killed him.

George:Well, actually, that soup was poisoned.

Jerry:What?!

George:Yeah, I found out later. The restaurant had a contamination problem. If I hadn't spilled it on him, he would've eaten it and died.

Jerry:So you... saved his life?

George:I'm a hero, Jerry. A hero.

George:Even the cat problem resolved.

Antonio:Thank you all so much!

Ed:Hey, watch it!

Antonio:What's your problem?

Ed:You're my problem, pal!

Jerry:So you're telling me you won the fight?

George:I didn't say I won it. I said I did okay.

Jerry:You did okay? George, the guy's in the hospital.

George:So? That doesn't mean anything. He probably went in for a checkup.

Jerry:A checkup? He's got a broken nose and two black eyes.

George:I barely touched him!

Jerry:How much longer is this going to take?

George:What do you mean? It could be resolved tomorrow, or it could take years.

Jerry:Years? That's not funny.

George:I'm not trying to be funny. I'm just saying, nobody knows.

Jerry:I don't understand fighting. I don't understand the appeal of fighting. I really don't. Two guys, they're arguing about something, and the next thing you know they're rolling around on the ground, throwing punches at each other. What is that about? How does that solve anything? 'Oh, you disagree with me? Well, let me just rearrange your face!' But then I realized, if two guys want to do that, fine. But they have to take it to a special place, right? They have to go to Madison Square Garden, pay money to watch two guys fight. What's the difference? It's the same thing! The same exact thing! Except now there's a guy in a striped shirt standing in the middle going, 'That's a foul!' A foul? You're fighting! It's all a foul!

Jerry:You ever notice how boxers are always so angry at each other? Like, these two guys have never met before in their lives, but they're in the ring acting like one of them just cut the other off in traffic.

Jerry:They're throwing punches like, 'You took my exit! You took my exit!' Meanwhile, the other guy's like, 'Well, YOU were tailgating me for five miles!'

Jerry:It's road rage with boxing gloves. That's all boxing is.