Red Hot Mama in the House

Girlfriends, this is what y’all call a grand entrance to Spago Beverly Hills for dinner.

Like OMG! Oscar weekend has arrived!

And no! That is not me in the photograph! I mean really, I do not have blonde hair…

Wolfgang’s House

You betcha baby! I’m pullin’ all the stops out to get a good table at Wolfgang’s House. What? Don’t you know Wolfgang Puck? Everybody knows him. I have seen him on TV! He IS Spago! Duh!

The Reservation

As I was sayin’… do you know how hard it is to get a table at Spago? For a nobody like me, it is a dice roll. I would have a better chance getting accepted to Harvard.

See, now if I were a ‘somebody’ with 10,000 likes on Instagram, or if had a publicist, like Caryn Leeds, then I could easily get a reservation. Alas, I am a nobody, and it takes sweat, tears, and lots of begging to get a table.

I did it! I grabbed the 7:15pm dinner time slot! Pure luck. Must have been a cancellation.

Table Request

Excuse me girlfriends, but I am a total snob. I am the Red Hot Mama, and I have specific requests even prior to reaching the restaurant.

This mama wants to know where she and her posse will be seated at the restaurant. You got it! What table you givin’ me? I want to see and be seen!

Due to COVID, Spago constructed an outdoor tent. Mind you, this is not a pup tent for camping. This is similar to the kind of million-dollar tent that hosts weddings and Bar Mitzvahs in the Hamptons. It’s a tent, but like a house, but called a tent to satisfy COVID dining rules.

Spago does have limited indoor seating in a spectacular courtyard setting. I think this is where the pretty, famous people get seated. Hot Mama wants to sit inside. Duh.

The Lure of Indoor Dining

The last time I went to Spago, they gave me a table not only in the tent, but the back of the tent where the sun was shining on the table like a spotlight. In truth, more like a laser beam searing a hole through the table. To make matters worse, we were the only people in the tent. Oh, and we had to ask our waiter to give us a new table. This required an in-person conference with the hostess, to determine where she would relocate our party. Keep in mind this was the 5:15pm seating.


I have clearly established I am a nobody. BUT I am the Red Hot Mama! I want to be treated like an A-lister. Ok, maybe a C-lister, just get me on that list so I can get a table inside the restaurant!

Peace out my friends. I need to make a few calls now to find people to carry me on their shoulders!

To be continued…

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