Life is strange...

I, with millions of others, used to watch Seinfeld religiously on television.  Of course that was before the days of the internet where you could download any damned show you wanted, get netflicks or whatever your little heart desired; so the choices we had were not huge. In fact they were downright slim!

I guess you’re wondering why I am bring it up; so do I.  But there is a point. 

Interestingly, I love George.  Short, fat…  Rude.  His snarly and shouting and lazy. Snivelling!  Hardly a sex symbol; Hell, he isn’t even remotely likeable!  Why then do I love him? I can only shake my head in wonder and thank God it is a distant thing; an unattainable love. He lives in another country and probably has a wife and buckets of money so in other words, out of my sphere.

But what is amazing to me, is that I went out and got my very own George.  The Squeeze, and I never realised it until this moment, is exactly like him. A replica!

He’s short; getting shorter because he is getting older and his bones are compressing.  His a little heavy, but in a barrel way with two ultra slim legs hanging off him.  (His tummy is too big to see them) And he is just like him in manner!  I can even hear him say some of the things George would say.

The Squeeze has a basic ineptness for anything romantic or emotional.   This could be amusing and at off times cute – when you know and understand how he works and by his actions, you know that although he has a retarded “show emotion” gene, he actually does have them floating somewhere inside that minuscule atrophied thing in his chest most people call a heart.   (if the Squeeze is reading this, think of cuddly puppies! That is how I see you! Cuddly! Puppy!)

But the funny thing is we each see him differently. 

I look at him and see Pic B. 

He envisions Pic A. 

I suppose he is both, so we are both right.