If Lou Ferrigno can't do it - then nor can I

So I heard from a very reliable source you can't actually reach Super Hero status until you've spent an entire day at The Ivy for lunch. Well maybe I had a dream about it, or fantasized about it, since nearly a year of celibacy has forced my fantasies in a whole different direction. Although I do receive signs in odd forms. For instance, instead of tea leaves, Big Red and I have taken on the art of reading wine sediment. Hey, you take the resources that are available to you. This task has its hazards. Such as last Wednesday it took 5 bottles before we realized there is no sediment in Sauvignon Blanc. Garçon bring out the Cabernet please.

Anyway, as it turns out, The Ivy in Los Angeles is a place where guests are in need of the services of a Super Hero, because they are "Hollywood" and don't have the energy to defend themselves based on their daily diet of 3 grapes a day with Veuve chasers. Now Big Red would like to claim I forced her into "said" diet, however, while she still had all her faculties about her at 1 p.m., she chose to order the Papaya and Avocado salad which was her last meal of the day due to the 5-hour "lunch" which included the above mentioned salad, 18 Gimlets, and Duckhorn Sauvignon Blanc. So by 6:30 p.m. the only source of nutrition she could feasibly consume would have been through intravenous injection, based on the fact her mouth couldn't form any replica of the English language, let alone have the strength to actually gnaw on any type of solid.

I'm no doctor and haven't even played one on T.V. - So she missed a meal. Heaven forbid. She certainly made up for it the next day with a heart-stopping - and I have to emphasize this part,, "AIRPORT" - chili-dog. I know, I'm training to be a super hero and all, so I should have saved her from herself. However, you have to understand, Lou Ferrigno couldn't have pried her hands off that dripping hot sausage sandwich at that moment.