I think I was having dinner with Burt Reynolds when I first met Streisand. This was back when Burt and Loni were still happy; they were married and Burt used to go out to dinner with lots of people. In fact, yes, I was having dinner with Burt and Loni when Streisand approached our table. I was just asking Loni some rather pointed questions about the directorial approach behind WKRP - "How come Les Nesman always had a Band-Aid on, huh? Y’ever notice that, Loni?" - when Barbra walks up.

She looks at Burt and smiles. "Jeez, Burt. You have dinner with the most attractive men."

Burt nods. But I’m grinning ‘cause I know she digs me. That’s all it takes in Hollywood; she tells Burt I’m handsome and basically what she really means is, "Your friend Steve is a hunk. A little chubby, maybe. But definitely my type."

Poor Barbra, though. ‘Cause I’m there hoping to pick up Susan Sarandon - wh’s sitting across the room. She’s eating with her pal, Demi. But she keeps winking at me.

Barbra takes a seat at our table. I decide to ignore her. I start making honey-poo gestures at Susan Sarandon. Loni leans over to Barbra and says, "Your dress is divine. Is it LaCroix?" Barbra goes, "Yes, but listen..." She starts whispering to Loni. "Hook me up with that chubby Steve fellow. He’s adorable." Loni giggles and says, "Just wait till the wine comes. All you gotta do is smile at him."

Burt lights up a cigar. He notices me starting at Susan Sarandon. He says, "Look, bucky, either pop a wheelie or put the bike in the shed." I frown. I say, "What do you mean, Burt?" He chews at his cigar for a moment. "You’re staring at that Susan Sarandon chick. Just go over and talk to her." I shake my head. "I can’t do it, man. She’s sitting with Demi. I’d be too nervous. You know what happened with me and Demi?" Burt nods his head slowly. He says, "Look, skippy, the whole town knows about you and Demi. But you can’t let that stop you - be a man for Chrissake."

The waiter comes over and pours us all a glass of wine. I slug mine down and stand up. Barbra looks at me. She goes, "That’s a lovely tie you’re wearing." I grin at her. I say, "You know what, baby, I want you to have it." I loosen my tie and take it off. I push back my chair and walk over to Barbra. I hand her my tie. She smiles. I reach down, pick up her glass of wine, and gulp it down. She laughs, "Ahh..."

I walk over to Susan Sarandon’s table. Demi looks up at me and puts her hand to her forehead. I just stare at Susan Sarandon. I say, "Susie, I think Rocky Horror was a bloody good piece of work. How about you and me going dancing later? I’ve seen your moves. You’re pretty good."

Demi stands up. "I don’t think Susan would be interested in dancing with YOU."

Susan Sarandon laughs. "Actually, that could be a lot of fun.

Where’d you want to go?"

I unbutton the collar of my shirt to pretend I’m warm. But I’m just trying to act relaxed. "Well, probably my place would be best," I say.

Susan Sarandon laughs. "Don’t you think that’s a bit obvious for a date?"

"Yeah, I know. I think I said it for the shock value. But I really would love to take you out. It’s so damn hard to find a good woman in this town. You should see what I’ve gone through."

I shake my head and glance at Demi.

Demi flips out at this. She lunges across the table. "You chubby bastard! I’ll kill you!"

She crashes across a plate of sweet-and-sour meatballs. I take a couple of steps back. "Demi, Demi..." I say.

"You lousy little schmuck. You and your stupid hairweave." She tries to climb over the table. "You think I even liked you?"

I’m looking at Susan Sarandon. I’m just cool, calm, collected. I turn to Demi. "I’m sure you liked me. I don’t doubt it."

"UNNHH," she screams.

I smile. "I mean, there was that night in Bimini. Or should I say ‘Morning’."

The maitre d’ comes over. He’s waving his hands. "Ms. Moore, please - we can’t have - Ms. Moore..."

Susan Sarandon stands up. "All right. All right. Stop it." She grabs Demi’s arm. "Just cool it."

Susan Sarandon steps away from the table. She leans close to my ear. "We better go to my place."

"Sounds sensible," I say.

I take her arm. We begin to walk past a few tables. I pass Simon & Simon producer Phil DeGuere, who’s sitting at the head of a crowded table. He spots me and raises a glass of white wine. "Hey, man..." I grin and say, "What’s happening, dude?"

I steer Susan Sarandon toward Burt’s table. Barbra is still ogling me. I smile at Burt and Loni. "Thanks, guys. I wish I could stay, but I better get going." I glance at Burt. "You know how it is?"

Burt nods, "Damn straight."

I turn over my shoulder and inspect Demi - who’s wiping food off her blouse; the maitre d’ is trying to calm her down. I turn back to Burt. "See if you can straighten all that out. Throw the maitre d’ a couple of bills. I’ll get you back on Sunday - we’re playing golf, right?"

"Yup."

I smile. Susan Sarandon smiles. I put my arm around her.

"Okay, gang. We’ll see you."

I lead Susan out to the parking lot. I hand my car check to the valet. "Be right back, senor," he says.

Susan Sarandon leans her soft brown hair against my shoulder. A minute later the valet revs my car up to the door. Susan straightens up.

"What the hell is that?"

"It’s my Hyundai?"

"Yeah - why? You don’t like it?"

"I can’t be seen in a Hyundai."

I look at her for a moment. "It’s not just any Hyundai. It’s a red Hyundai - with a real Sanyo AM/FM radio. The kind with the pushbuttons - you know, for the pre-programmed channels. I thought--"

"Oh, no, no, buster. When I want to party, I expect style. I want to be wined and dined. I want to ride in comfort."

"Wait till we get back to your place. You want a smooth ride, you should check out my transmission."

She pulls away from me. "I’m not interested." She clasps her purse and starts to walk back into the restaurant.

"So that’s it?" I say. "You’re blowing me off ‘cause of

my car?"

"Yup."

"Fine, I’ll just go home with Barbra Streisand tonight."

She pauses. "Streisand?"

"Yeah. She’s sitting there, pining away for me right now - third degree case of the Stevies."

She turns around and walks back out to me. Her high heels make these quick clicking sounds on the lobby floor.

"You and Barbra, huh?"

"Yeah. Me and Barbra."

"I didn’t know."

"Me and Streisand, babe. That’s Hollywood."

"How do I know you’re serious?"

I take her arm. "Watch this." I lead her back into the restaurant. I steer her toward Burt’s table. He looks up at me with an amazed grin. He’s chewing the remains of his cigar. He switches it to the other corner of his mouth.

"Hey, cowboy--"

"Yo, B," I say. I glance at Babs. I stand over her. She tilts back her head. I whisper, "Listen, babe, I was thinking we should get some champagne some time."

She turns around and smiles. "Ooh, any time. I’m yours-- you

know that."

I grin and give her a kiss on the cheek. "Call me."

She blushes. "Okay."

I put my hand on Susan Sarandon’s shoulder. "You want to ride in a red 1989 Hyundai?"

She sighs. "I guess so."

I lead her out to the parking lot.

The valet opens the passenger door for her. She climbs in. He closes the door behind her. I slip him a $5 bill. I trot around and open my door. I climb inside, jam the car into first, and race off.

I turn onto Mulholland. Wind rushes in through the open windows. I reach across and put my hand on Susan Sarandon’s leg. "Where’s your place, babe?"

She shakes her head. "I can’t believe I’m doing this..."

I squeeze her thigh. "Lookit, girl. Where’s your crib?"

She pauses. "Over near Sunset."

"I know it. We’ll be there in no time."

I shift into fourth gear and race us down to Mulholland.