Well, I survived. I survived intact and no worse for the wear. Most importantly, I survived without taking on any excess calories, harboring any feelings of guilt, or the need to have a Lifetime Original Movie moment curled up on the floor of my shower weeping uncontrollably over the carnage suffered by so many innocent meals, devoured by that unrelenting beast that is my hunger. (Come on, you’ve all seen my hunger. He’s a big star now in all the Weight Watchers commercials. Of course, they’ve gussied him up with a lot of Hollywood magic. Because trust me, he’s much uglier, meaner and a much bigger adversary than he’s made out to be.)

The splendiferous circus of culinary delights from which I escaped is, of course, Restaurant Week. The good people of Suffolk were treated to some of the finest grub I’ve ever smelled, saw or heard tale of. Whether it was the crab cakes over at Grits and Gravy, the Seafood Fra Diablo at Amici’s, or the awesome-sounding Volcano Bowl at Sushi Aka, I was trapped in a city that was, at once, a wonderland of food and a test of willpower, with the difficulty of a final exam on celestial mechanics in the Mesozoic era at MIT.

Don’t get me wrong, Suffolk chefs and restaurateurs, I know many of you would argue that it was down right insulting my not experiencing the many and varied food styles at my disposal. But, I implore you all to appreciate my situation. Because, it is a situation much like that of an old adage about the wolf. The adage roughly states that once a wolf gets a taste for blood, the only way to cure it of its affliction is death.

So, consider me a much cuter and kinder version of the wolf when it comes to my foodie cravings. And let’s face it, if you’ve ever polished off an entire pack of hot dogs in one sitting, then drank the hot dog water like a warm chaser afterwards like I have, your best defense against defeating the calories is simple — avoid them at all costs.

So I truly apologize to all you restaurateurs who participated in Restaurant Week. I simply could not patronize your establishments due to my doctor’s exciting new diet of air, water and meal visualization — wherein, through colossal exertions of mental energy one can convince his or her self that the plate of unseasoned broccoli and carrots are, in fact, a delicious plate of shrimp egg foo young.

But, in looking at the bright side, I also wish to thank all the participants for putting on what I hear was quite a display of food magic and a true celebration of the ceremony of suppertime. In not partaking in the incredible feasts exploding all over the city, you have all given me the hope — through your constantly tempting me — that I too can control the hunger and the inner wolf.

And someday, when I can master the concept of all things in moderation, maybe my participation in Restaurant Week can be more than the numerous slobber marks left haphazardly on restaurant windows and accidentally running my lips across the New York strips of random strangers.

So sorry about that, Suffolk restaurants, I’ll get the Windex and clean that up. And don’t worry about the random strangers … I left the tip.

Troy Cooper is the page designer for the Suffolk News-Herald. He can be reached at troy.cooper@suffolknewsherald.com