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| - I'm not sure why I continue to bother with Pita Jungle. This is a different location, away from the hustle and bustle of downtown Phoenix. I happened to be in the area so I figured "why not?" It's the fondness I have for their food - it goes way back to when they were a little indie shop near ASU. Their baba is just one of the most unbelievable things I have ever tried in my life and I always feel like I've had something healthy and good for me, no matter what I get.
When I first walk in, I'm kind of struck by how empty the place is here at high noon. I recall having to fight for space at this place. Not this time. Of course, it is the weekend, so perhaps they do most of their business during the week. Or perhaps people are tiring of the nonexistent service. I am seated quickly, which is as it should be, because the place is EMPTY. There are literally maybe three or four parties in the whole building including the back porch. I count what appears to be about nine employees moving about in various capacities, none of whom look at me. The hostess who seated me vanishes, not so much as bringing me a glass of water. About five minutes later, I get done checking my email and doing everything else I can do on my phone, so I begin to do that thing that you do, you know, look around, try and make eye contact with someone so they will hopefully come over and take your order?
No dice. After several minutes of just trying to eyeball someone into coming over and saying boo, I finally get vocal when two young men come near me and begin busing a nearby table. "Hey guys..." I say, fairly timidly. The four women at the table a few feet over all stop and turn and stare at me, but so focused are the young men on their work at hand, they hear nothing. They see nothing. They do nothing. I begin to marvel at the amount of time I have been here since being seated by the now phantom hostess and I begin to play that game in my head which I'm not sure you know or if it has a real name but which I will call the "how long do you think I could actually sit here before anything happens" game. It is now that I begin to get miffed. I'm embarrassed by having had to cry out for the attention that I didn't get and it's about now that I actually count the number of employees I can see who are apparently completely unable to see me.
Finally, one of the young men comes back to my area, though still blissfully unaware of me. It was kind of interesting, he was looking around, left and right, right and left, the entire time, I am waving my hand up and down in what I am increasingly certain will be a vain attempt to get him to see me, but he finally does. When he sees me though, he doesn't hustle right over and apologetically ask me if I have been waiting long. No, he gets a sour look on his face and looks around the room again, as if to say "where the hell did everyone go?" I understood how he felt. Apparently he was not an authorized employee for my quadrant of the restaurant because, after shifting around uncomfortably looking for someone in earshot who he could call over to send my way he decided that that wasn't possible just at this moment (YOU DON'T SAY) and came over to my table, weakly informing me that he "could take my drink order."
Take my drink order. Not "good afternoon," not "hey how's it going," not "you were waving your hand like a crazy person you must have been sitting here FOREVER I'm so sorry about that can I get you a complimentary pita bread while I try and hunt down and murder the server who has been criminally ignoring you?" No, none of this, instead, he could take my drink order. I don't even have a drink order. All I want is water, which used to just magically show up on my table on its own at Pita Jungle. Used to.
"You know what," I say. "Nevermind." I walked right out and drove to Souper Salad. They don't have that mind-blowing baba but they do have tuna skroodle and at least I can serve myself.
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