It’s a rainy fall morning in New York City when an unassuming man walks into the Remedy Diner on the Lower East Side.
White, middle-aged, hood pulled over his head, he could be mistaken at first glance for just another of the LES’s recent yuppie transplants. But there are a few tells that indicate this isn’t your average 60-year-old normcore banker. Maybe it’s the fully-3M’d Nike Olympic Jacket, or the pristine blue, green, and white Nike Huarache sneakers. Or maybe it’s the “J.S.” scrawled on the Starbucks cup he’s clutching as he steps through the door. Not many guys in dad jeans are known to baristas around town just by their initials. Jerry Seinfeld is in the house.
Rest @ Complex