No carbs. Just fish or chicken. And keep a takeout box handy in case he has to rush. Tea, please (green, with four packets of Splenda). Water (bottled, preferably room temperature.) And never leave his sight.
In the year since he became mayor of Los Angeles, Antonio Villaraigosa has undergone a transformation from garden-variety public official to something approaching a rock star, drawing crowds wherever he goes.
And attending to L.A.'s celebrity mayor -- according to a confidential memo -- is no small endeavor.
It's up to a swarm of harried aides to keep the boss hydrated and happy, primped and pampered, ensuring that he has clean hands and fresh breath (he gobbles Listerine strips by the pack).
Villaraigosa is chauffeured around town by police in a black GMC Yukon.
Two personal assistants, assigned to him in alternating shifts, tend to his needs, shadowing him from morning to night and keeping him in view at all times should he need anything. His seven press aides field questions from reporters, arrange news conferences and keep him in the loop about breaking events.
These sorts of details are expected to remain private -- part of the stagecraft that keeps the frenetic mayor gliding effortlessly and relaxed through the city.
But the two-page memo, "Staffing the Mayor," offers a rare glimpse into the mania behind the man. The instructions -- distributed to everyone who works for the mayor and obtained by The Times -- portray a chief executive focused on detail and comfort, always appearing in control and on message.
"Your job is to remain at all times within the mayor's line of sight," the memo states. "You should constantly adjust your position so the mayor can see you and call you over if need be."
Villaraigosa, of course, is not the only public figure who likes royal treatment.
Some date the current wave of celebrity pampering to a mischievous act by a hard-rock band.
The group Van Halen once placed a clause in its contract requiring bowls of M&M candy, with the brown ones plucked out. The Rolling Stones responded a year later by demanding candy bowls filled only with brown M&Ms. From there, the practice took hold -- Britney Spears, for one, demanded full-length mirrors and Pop Tarts in her dressing room -- and has eventually crept into politics as well.
