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She has sex with a stranger in a car wash. Inside the car. And also outside the car. But, in case you were interested, it does not involve those big floppy brushes full of rags. And, in case you were interested (were you?), you never see her body. Or non-body. Or the map of desire and deprivation that her body has become for us all. Did she have to disappear before she could become this erotic?

But I digress. And I haven't even fully begun yet. Ally, Ally, Ally, get your adverbs here. Sensuously. Slipperily. With a sea-green bridesmaid's dress on. And so on. The only lawsuit in this episode has got to be the copyright suit from Penthouse Forum.

For those who haven't seen the season premiere, I guess I should tell you what Ally McBeal was "about," to the extent that it has any of that quality of "aboutness." In case you haven't noticed, it is no longer "about" the law -- except insofar as the law provides the framework of rules for the society we all have sex in. (So if you're reading to find out if the show is legally accurate, well, there's almost nothing to say. Hmm. One thing, I guess. But I've buried it ten paragraphs below, in keeping with the show's own priorities.) Okay. With a nod to "aboutness," listen carefully, children, to the strange case of Ally McB. Wherein a minister refuses to perform a wedding because he's viewed the bride-to-be cheating on the groom-to-be. Wherein Ally changes the minister's mind; and she "gets" to be a bridesmaid but -- horror -- the groom turns out to be the stranger she had sex with in the car wash. (I hate it when that happens; it's always SO awkward.) Or should I say, with whom she had sex in the car wash? My grammar starts slipping as those big floppy brushes start to whir . . . .

Ally, being Ally, objects at the wedding when she has this epiphany and the groom smugly winks at her -- leading to a weird E.F. Hutton commercial of echo and confession by Ally, that little hypocritical exhibitionist, as Ling helpfully points out. (Where have you gone, Ben and Elaine? There's a bus I want to take with you, and a cross I want to use to bar the door . . . There are so many ways to ruin weddings.)

Ultimately, Ally convinces the bride not to marry Carwash Guy. He was so good in the car wash with Ally, and so bad in bed with his bride, that he must be marrying his bride for the money. I guess men only marry women either for the sex or for the money. But there are some idealists who want both.

I cannot even bear to go into Renee starting her own firm with, um, Whipper. With the sex thing, it's hard to even write that name. (And I am wondering if bridesmaids having identical dresses is some kind of Robert Plant sexual fantasy dating back to who knows when. I had thought it was just color coordination). Renee and Whipper are planning to reel in clients with sex appeal? Uh-huh. The new firm needs to go, David E. Kelley. (Was there a David F. Kelley he was once confused with?)

But otherwise you did good, David E. I am happy that Georgia, that freshfaced little twit, barely spoke. And to the extent the show was legal, it was legally accurate. A judge would, indeed, NOT force a minister to perform a wedding (the judge being Ally's first resort, before she went to convince the priest to perform the ceremony). That's my opinion as a member of the bars of New York AND Washington, D.C. So there. And they said Ally McBeal was not realistic. Just because of that little frog.

For those who did see this episode, I have some other stuff to say. First of all, was I in the only t.v. market (D.C.) that featured that car wash commercial with the man and his little boy driving through? Was that on purpose? Was I the only one who thought about Todd Solondz's "Happiness" at that moment? "Everybody In-cest" -- as the Gap Ad would go. (What I love about those ads is that only the mouths move.)

What about when Nell and John kiss but he's envisioning Barry White. Why don't you get to see him kiss Barry White? Is it because you don't get to see Demi Moore kiss Whoopi Goldberg in Ghost? Even though you do see that pottery scene, which is much more explicit. It is because Barry White himself refrained, despite his acknowledged popularity among gay audiences? As a lawyer, I want answers.

And Ally, oh, Ally, why can't she say "fuck"? I can. But I'm in print. Ally, Ally, Ally, get your verb here. True love waits -- until you can talk the way real people talk in the real world. I think Lenny Bruce (whom I'd have loved to meet in a car wash, had he lived) died for that. And George Carlin played a million college campuses for that. And still -- still -- she can't say it. Come on baby. Say it.

And why can't she come, if the sex was so good? She bites her lip, she moans, but Ally's never really out-in-free. You know, she never really goes to the um, the ah, the uh uh uh. (Imagine Vince Vaughn for me here. Please. In a car wash.) Maybe it's another gender conspiracy. Car washes aren't timed to the female orgasm. Carwash backlash. But you could always go through twice. And you would end up with a really clean car. Pay attention, guys, please.

I want to see Ally stride through the world satisfied, like the Aztec rabbit god she really is. Okay, a really neurotic Aztec rabbit god. Like the were-jaguar of her little legal world, with those were-teeth she flashes out just once. "Unconscionably promiscuous," as John says. What would Equity say about that?

And Nell. What about Nell? She cannot even get John to perform phone sex. The show won't let her. John could probably perform. If he had to. These woman are frustrated, yes, but isn't what frustrates them -- what creates the sexy tension -- really not the men but the network? Censorship, straight up.

But it's not unsexy. Far from it. Is it me, or has anyone else thought it might have been sexy to keep one foot on the floor the whole time, the way they told you to? The game of Network Twister that was born in the Twenties has been handed down to us. Here in 1999, an entire show about how it's okay for women to love sex even without love -- Revelation! Can it be? -- can't show the reason meaningless sex exists, can't tell the actual Story of O.

Still, this episode was a whole lot better than watching Jennifer Love Hewitt sing karaoke. And Ally's subliminal images lasted much longer than the ones in Fight Club. Actually, I loved it. In case you can't tell. Maybe it was just because I spent the weekend with a man who both knew Rilke and resembled the archaic torso of Apollo. Or because the friend with whom I watched was so solicitous -- saying things like "Stale Cheezit?", offering me soup and popcorn, and expressing concern for Ally when she apparently had UNPROTECTED sex with Carwash Guy. Ally, you should know better. My friend is right.

Girls, don't try this at home. Do NOT immediately tell a partner at your firm when you have sex in the car wash with a stranger.

But do tell that partner this, if you must discuss the topic at all: It's just too late in the day for older people (e.g., Barbara Walters) to keep pretending that they do not know what phone sex EVEN IS and to try to make other people explain it (in a close relationship, such an explanation would itself degenerate into phone sex). It has been explained clearly and repeatedly. What's so scary -- that you would actually have to speak to the person you're sleeping with? John Cage, get a grip. People pay good money for that ($0.99 to $4.99 a minute, to be precise). As a lawyer, you should recognize that it must have some value. Come on guy, it's billable!

Next week: The "I Kissed A Girl" episode. I'm watching with a female friend. You do that, too.

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