It’s my ten-year reunion, and I didn’t go. I was in New York working like crazy as a freelancer and just trying to make it there. And I got a phone call in New York and it’s Patti. The real Patti. And my heart’s beating fast. She’s like, ‘I was at the reunion! You weren’t!’ and I was like, ‘Yeah…sorry…I had to work.’ And she goes, ‘I found out you live in New York. Guess what—I do, too!’ And she told me where she lives. We lived across Central Park from each other. And she says, ‘Why don’t you come over for dinner?’

So now we’re in a Doug show. I’m like, what do I wear? What will she look like!? All that’s happening as I’m walking across Central Park to her apartment, just wondering and just hoping, all those things. I was, at the time, very available.

I get to the door, and you get buzzed up in New York, and so I walk up to the apartment and I hear the lock turn—it’s getting ready to happen—and she opens the door, and she’s perfect. Just perfect. She just looks spectacular and she’s so happy, and her arms fly up and we hug, and I’m just like [frightened guttural gasping noises]. She backs up and she goes ‘Look, Jimmy! Boobs! I got my boobs!’ [Laughs.] It sounds like I’m making this up, right? And I’m like, ‘Yeah… yeah, uh huh!’ ‘Yeah, they always used to call me Flatty Patti, but look!’ And she was just funny and fun and innocent, but it’s like Doug and Patti together again, ten years later, right?

So this is all wonderful, right? And then she wheels and goes, ‘Oh, Jimmy, I want you to meet my husband.’

And I don’t even remember the rest of the evening.