Enjoy. Costanza.


As I am flipping my eggs this morning, I couldn’t help but think what a world-class prick George Costanza was. But yet we loved him. And, I miss him. Costanza could double dip his chip and walk out of the potty into a dinner party shirtless – but who didn’t love that D battery shaped prick of a man?

His approach was to leave every room with a limerick. Something warm and fuzzy for people to remember him by that would somehow eradicate all the wrongs he’d committed in the previous 22 minute episode.

“Cosssstannzaaa…”

Brilliance, I say.

I used to drive 60 miles one way to work each day. People would ask me how I managed getting through the various traffic pockets that lay in wait for me each day up and down the Bay Area.

That was like playing checkers against an 8-year old. All you have to do is show up. The real battle was me vs. my digestive system. I couldn’t have more than 2 cups of coffee in the morning or I’d feel like a water balloon by the time I got to the outskirts of lovely Fremont. Often, I didn’t have time to make breakfast so getting to the cafeteria grill first was the extra special Olympic game I played.

After I won that skirmish, the game within the game started. At that hour, the Egg Nazi was usually still chopping onions or cleaning the grill. She didn’t appreciate how I had just outwitted my own bladder to get there for her breakfast special. She typically stared me down and marinated me in my own hunger while she finished whatever chore she was ensconced in.

This was a true prick. I loved her.

A pushover compared to the Egg Nazi

A pushover compared to the Egg Nazi

As she handed me my bacon and eggs, that silent scowl always said to me “Take your eggs and your stupid BlackBerry and go Tweet about your soon-to-be-scathing case of salmonella you stereotypical Asian at a dot com,” but those big, pouty lips that looked like two slugs making out in a Petri dish of ketchup sang happily “enjoy…”

Poof.

Just like that she went from being the scary Egg Nazi to the come hither Egg Ingenue.

That little verbal pat on the bum somehow made all the silent abuse worth it. Alas, these interludes over eggs have ended. But I say, it’s better to have enjoyed and lost than never to have enjoyed at all.

– Jose Mallabo

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  1. #1 by ken on May 21, 2009 - 9:22 am

    for those english-as-a-first-language speakers out there, it’s important to note the pronounciation… “enyoy”

  2. #2 by Roman on May 21, 2009 - 8:08 pm

    I had the same dilemma with coffee and the shuttle. It was like high school all over again, take a visit to the shuttle bathroom and be labeled the “pooper” or “pisser”. Everyone wanted to go, and relieve their bladder or lower intestine, but no one did. Once I made it into the office at the ungodly hour of 8:20 or so I made it straight to the bathroom to relieve myself.

    After that, I also would visit the Egg Nazi and order the easiest thing on the menu (usually day old breakfast sandwich).

    I always cringed when I’d hear a former manager/colleague of mine ask if she could “substitute” this for “that”. I know the Egg Nazi wanted to spit in her food, and that made me laugh.

  3. #3 by Dave on May 22, 2009 - 5:25 pm

    “Do you ever just get down on your knees and thank god that you know me, and have access to my dementia?”

    “Are you crazy?!? This is like discovering plutonium by accident.”

    – George Costanza
    http://www.videosift.com/video/Seinfeld-The-Switch

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