2005-08-11 - 12:50 a.m.

Every now and then a girl�s gotta shop�so why not take along an Emmy Award-winning TV star/comedian? Well, for one thing, most of us don�t really know any Emmy winners. Except for me, of course. I actually DO know an Emmy Award winner; he�s my ex-husband Ted Mann who won a few of them for NYPD Blue back in the glory days of that remarkable-till-the-end show�but I�m getting way off track.

The thing is, boys and girls�I�ve had another DREAM�and I knew you�d want to hear about it right away. Here goes�

So, I�m at the Queens Center Mall shopping for some sports bras and a kitchen trash can with my boyfriend�JERRY SEINFELD. He�s all complaining because he�s tired and bored and hungry.

Jerry: �I need a Cinnabon�I�m starving�I need to eat right NOW�I�m hypoglycemic�I�m dying�

Me: �Will you SHUT UP for two seconds, you whining comic bastard.�

Jerry: �I don�t want to shop for bras with you; it�s embarrassing.�

Me: �They�re NOT bras�they�re SPORTS BRAS�I don�t even have to try them on, you IDIOT. And it�s no more embarrassing than walking around with you wearing that stupid �Seinfeld� jacket. Take that damn thing off. Everyone knows you�re Jerry Seinfeld�so the jacket is just lame.� (I wanted to tell him it was �so George Costanza, but I felt I had said enough.)

Okay, so I got the sports bras, got the trash can�and we�re roaming around the parking lot looking for our car�when this van pulls up with three skells inside. They pull a knife on Jerry and tell us to get into the van. Shit, it�s broad daylight, and we�re being kidnapped in the parking lot of the Queens Center Mall. This is SO white trash. What am I even doing in QUEENS??

Anyway, we drive around and around, and the three geniuses up front are arguing about what they should do with us, and I�m thinking, �Jerry, just give these bozos a million dollars or something, and let�s get the hell outta here.� Then the van stops�and they let us out�and we�re in the middle of Lefrak City, which, for you Canadians, is like Parkdale, but with much taller buildings�and lots of �em. It�s one of New York�s original �housing projects,� and it sits right off the Long Island Expressway. Most of the apartments have terraces�and every time I pass this ancient City of Lefrak on my way home from the Hamptons, I think: �Why would anyone on God�s green earth want a terrace that looks out over the stinking, steaming Long Island Expressway?"

So, the knuckleheads lead me and Jerry into one of these hundreds of identical buildings, and I want to laugh because there are all these old Jewish ladies with shopping carts saying, �Hi, boys, how are you today?� What are these three shmendricks gonna do with us? It�s just too funny. I mean if you�re gonna get kidnapped...in a dream...you want to be taken to some crack den or an old shed in a vacant lot or something�not to a pre-fab one-bedroom apartment in Lefrak City�with nosy neighbors all around.

Inside the apartment, the three giant brains lead me and Jerry to the bathroom and tell us to take off our clothes and get into the tub. Of course, in my dream it�s this giant oval tub that�s all out of proportion to the rest of the cheesy little bathroom. And what�s even WEIRDER is that already in the tub are: Steve Honig, a former assistant of mine (whom I haven�t seen in 15 years since he moved to LA); Elizabeth�s friend Eva; and Ralph Malph from Happy Days (a show I never even watched). Five of us in this tub, naked, splashing around�while Shmo, Larrry and Curly swat at us with plastic back scratchers.

They�re yelling, �Yeah, keep splashing. Splash MORE.�

Finally, they get bored with this and let us go, and I�m thinking: I had to get my hair all wet and ruin my eye makeup for THIS. What stupid kidnappers.

So now Jerry and I are outside Lefrak City smooching on the street and talkin� trash about our sub-moronic �nappers. I figured we�d just catch a cab back to Queens Center Mall and pick up our car, but, the next thing I know, Jerry hops on a bus and says, �See ya� later, I�m going to visit my parents��and he just leaves me there�in front of Lefrak City. WHAT. THE. FUCK. I immediately throw myself down on the sidewalk and have a total temper tantrum�all kicking and screaming and cursing him out. �You ASSHOLE. You�re not even funny anymore!! And you�re losing your hair.�

But later we�re in his apartment�cuddling in his bed and watching the original �Alfie� starring Michael Caine. (That was actually the best part of the dream.) Jerry is saying�

�That bathtub sex was the best I�ve ever had.�

�We didn�t have SEX�in that tub, you slow-tard. What are you talking about?�

Of course, now I�m totally aggravated and missing the best parts of �Alfie��like when he bangs his sanitorium pal�s wife after a canoe ride. What a cad, but I SO would have done him, too. Young Michael Caine was irresistible.

Now I jump out of Jerry�s bed because suddenly I�m late for my cousin Rosemarie�s wedding. Rosemarie is the daughter of my father�s sister Hilda�and she scandalized the family in the late 60�s by �HAVING TO get married,� if you know what I mean. (In reality, she never had a wedding�she just quietly married Adam�s father Bruce, who vanished shortly thereafter. Today she�s a holistic healer who also drives a school bus in the mountains outside San Francisco.) Wait�where was I? Oh, yeah�suddenly I�m rushing to get dressed for Rosemarie�s "dream" wedding�and the frustration of not being able to find my shoes or make-up�and the sight of Jerry Seinfeld with his balding pate, big teeth and stupid comments�well, I just woke up. I was completely done with this dream. It sucked. And I don�t remember what I ever did with the sports bras or the trash can. One of the three dopey kidnappers is probably wearing it as a hat.


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