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| - Bungalow is on the periphery of so many douchebaggy places in Scottsdale that it's impressive to see that it didn't fall into the same trap. Packed with people on weekend nights, this place was hoppin' with folks several rungs down the obnoxious scale compared to other nearby locations. How'd it manage to pull this off? It's a mystery wrapped in an enigma.
Their sliders and steak skewers were pretty decent, and several TVs were playing sports (in this case, Sox v. Yankees).
But dock one star for the waitress scowling at me when I asked her for ginger ale (hey, I had a really long week with little sleep and didn't need to push it when it came to driving back to Phoenix).
"We don't have ginger ale," she responded.
"Well, what other non-alcohlic drinks you got?"
"Coooke, Diet Coooke, tonic water, Spriiite...." she responded, in a sardonic monotone (I'm not making this up...even my friends noticed).
"I'll take a Sprite. Thanks."
But I may as well have just ordered Phoenix tap water, because that's what it tasted like. The weakest Sprite that ever Sprited.
I'd come back again for happy hour sometime. Hopefully the waitress will have woken up on the right side of the bed by then. Maybe she was just as tired as I was. I'll give her the benefit of the doubt, for I'm feeling chivalrous today.
3 stars.
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