GUESS WHOSE BOSS DID <i> NOT </i> COME TO DINNER?

First, there was the Emmy caper. Now comes word of the Bruce Springsteen caper. An impostor, described as “nerdy-looking” and posing as a minion for the rock star, got two popular restaurants braced for a surprise visit by the Boss and a large party.

The bracing was wasted. The minion was not the McCoy. It happened Saturday at R.J.’s in Beverly Hills and at the Hard Rock Cafe in West Los Angeles on Sept. 18, say officials at both emporiums, who took it with surprisingly good humor.

Debra Cokin, general manager of R.J.’s, said the hoaxer resembled Barry Bremen, a part-time sports spoofer who gained much fame at the Emmy Awards show Sunday by accepting, without permission, an Emmy for Betty Thomas of NBC’s “Hill Street Blues.”

Bremen was jailed for nearly six hours after the Emmy caper and faces an Oct. 8 court appearance in Pasadena for what police now say probably will be a misdemeanor charge. Bremen emphatically denied Wednesday that he’d pulled the restaurant pranks.

“Oh, no, I didn’t do that,” said Bremen, now free on $1,500 bail. “I would never put anybody out like that.”

The poseur who did the restaurant put-ons used a similar method of operation and appeared to be the same man, said Karen (Cookie) Stone, night manager at the Hard Rock. She said she drew this conclusion after Cokin called her on Saturday, asked if the Hard Rock also had been hit, and the two compared notes.

Stone described the impostor as tall, “nerdy-looking” and unshaven.

(Note: Unshaven aides-de-star and even unshaven stars aren’t uncommon in Hollywood. Indeed, the modern dress code of Tinseltown requires a two-day growth of beard.)

Stone said that on the night of the 18th, the man identified himself as Springsteen’s road manager, said the Boss and a party of 30 would be arriving shortly (the number rose to 63 at R.J.’s), and the Boss might want to sing a couple of songs. Could they be accommodated?

(A spokeswoman for Springsteen in New York said that the man, whoever he was, was not working for the rock star, “definitely not.”)

The Hard Rock’s Stone said she had more than a few doubts that the man was a Springsteen aide or even had all his marbles. But she reasoned that this is Hollywood, anything can happen, and it is better to be safe than unprepared for a visit by a rock superstar.

So, she said, she reserved tables. Meanwhile, the man sent in sound gear for the possible performance. He also began promising customers backstage passes to Springsteen’s upcoming Los Angeles concerts. The excitement increased among the mostly young crowd as rumors of the star’s impending visit swept the cafe and elsewhere.

Stone said that the man “hung around for hours,” constantly fretting that the Boss was late. Finally, the reserved tables were set free. The man “offered me $2,500 because he’d wasted my time,” she said. “Then he vanished.”

He did not leave $2,500, she added. He just left an unpaid bill for his drinks and dinner. But Tony Sarcomo, the cafe’s general manger, was not distressed by the uproar. “People came,” he said. “It helped us. It was good for business.”

Apparently the same flim-flammer struck next at 10 a.m Saturday at R.J.’s. He said the Boss and 62 others were arriving in two hours, most of them in a 45-foot-long bus, and asked the assistant manager if they could be accommodated.

The assistant manager had her doubts and called Cokin at home. Cokin said she rushed over, talked with the man, and, although she also had doubts, put the staff on red alert as a precautionary measure after consulting with her superiors.

Five extra waiters, two busboys and an additional bartender were called in. As at the Hard Rock, the man promised backstage passes for Springsteen’s Los Angeles concerts. He also said, “Bruce may want to play a couple of songs.”

Cokin said she did not quite believe all this. Still, she said, she thought it better to be safe than sorry. And the man was terribly concerned about parking arrangements, particularly for his own black Lamborghini, which he said someone else would be driving over.

The Boss & Co. were due at 12:15 p.m. The Boss & Co. did not show. After 15 minutes, the lunch-arranger told Cokin: “I just called and they can’t find the restaurant.”

“He walked out to the corner to look for them, and I sent a waiter along with him,” she said. “This went on until 1:30 p.m., and at that point the waiter came back and said, ‘Hey, I don’t think anyone’s coming.’ ”

The waiter was right. The man disappeared. It is not known if he disappeared in a black Lamborghini. But Cokin, understandably miffed then, has kept her sense of humor and even manages to laugh about the whole thing now. She said this was the first time this has happened to her in her six years in restaurant management.

What became of the extra staff summoned for the party that never was?

“Well,” she said, “after they beat me up, they left.”