Around episode twenty-eight, I started to fear the world outside Seinfeld. In that world, I had order and structure. Sure, it might be boring and repetitive, but it was predictable. There was no chaos; I knew what to expect. But out in the real world, this is not the case. Seinfeld is the benevolent dictator upon which I can rely. The radical freedom outside that room began to feel like too much to handle.