Does Jerry Seinfeld frequent Manhattan leather bars?

I'm nearly a bartender at the notorious Manhattan leather bar "The Anvil" and a couple nights ago a guy came in who looked exactly like Jerry Seinfeld. Here's a transcript of our conversation:

ME

Hey, man, you sure look hot in that leather.

ALLEGED JERRY

I am hot. How do cows do it? You try wearing head-to-toe leather all day. And it's gotta be worse for them -- they're standing in the sun. Does this make sense? This has gotta prove that there is no God. You think a merciful Creator would sit up there in the clouds and go, "OK, I got most of this thing done. It's gotta to eat grass, so I'll give it fourteen stomachs, and it's gotta feed people so I'll stuff it with chuck roasts and put a milk dispenser on the bottom. But what am I going to wrap the thing in? It'll be standing in a pasture in the sun all day long. . . . I know -- LEATHER!"

If this is God's idea of good design, well, send me straight to hell! If he wanted to torture cows why didn't he just wrap them in foil? Actually, that'd be helpful -- we wouldn't have to barbecue. We'd just set a cow in the sun for an hour or two and it would puff up like beefy Jiffy Pop. "Dinner ready yet, Ma?" "Jes' 'bout, Pa. Why'ncha go prick Elsie with the pitchfork and get us some gravy?"

And how are cows supposed to make love? You ever sat on leather on a hot day? After two seconds your butt looks like a waffle and you're pouring Evian into your pockets. What's a bull supposed to do? A merciful God would at least have given them oven mitts. Picture the poor bull trying to get some action: "Hey, cow baby. You are so beautiful. Pardon me while I slip this in -- AIIIIIEEEEEEEEEE!"

There was more, but by now I had my hands clapped over my ears.

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