I will never end my search for the perfect hot sauce. I love it. I put it on everything - bagels, eggs, pasta, veggie burgers... I dip things in it. I mix it in with foods that are not adequately spicy.

The best, hottest, snot-inducing hot sauce I have encountered so far is one I found in Tennessee. Leave it to the dirty south to produce the the ass kicker of all hot sauces. It was called Scorned Woman.

It was the name that compelled me to buy the bottle. Because we all know that hell hath no fury like a woman scorned. So I figured that after eating it, I would have melted brain matter seeping out of my ears. Well, it is so hot that if you get some on your hand, YOUR SKIN STINGS. A teeeny drop is all you need to spice up a family of 54. The bottle has lasted me three years.

But since I have only been to Tennessee once and I am unable to stock up on Scorned Woman, I have had to find a suitable alternative. Hence, my Frank's Red Hot obsession.

Yes, obsession. I have gotten to the point where I don't even bother finding things to put it in/on. I just grab a spoon. I know, I'm repulsive. As I am typing this I am staring at a bottle of it. Which leads me to a story:

The other day at work, I was jonesing for a mid-afternoon snack. So I grabbed some pretzel rods out of the kitchen. As I bit the tip of the first one, I looked up at the shelf next to my desk and a brilliant thought entered my head. Dip the rods in the Frank's Red Hot! So I did.

But as I was doing it, I reached a breaking point. Sort of like when the alcoholic finally admits that they have a problem. What I realized was that not only was I dipping pretzel rods into a bottle of Frank's Red Hot and eating it in plain sight of all my co-workers...but that I even had a bottle of hot sauce on my desk to begin with.

Yeah, I have a problem. The bottle at work is in addition to the two I have at home. One in the fridge and one for back up (God forbid I run out).

In Boston over the summer, I nearly had an anxiety attack in the hotel room because I forgot to bring hot sauce to put on my bagel. So I dashed out onto the street in search of a 7-11. I found one. And I got my hot sauce. Crisis averted.

I did the same thing on Fire Island a few weeks ago. However, I was not as fortunate. It was the end of the summer and the convenience store was out of hot sauce. They don't restock at the end of the summer. I was out of luck. I actually had to eat my egg and cheese on a roll...without hot sauce. I pouted all day.

The more I sit here contemplating the wonders of my love affair, the more convinced I am that I would not be so wrong to just take the bottle of Frank's Red Hot sitting next to me and drink it.