Pitas aren’t waterproof.
Crusty bread sacs are not built for vast swirling ponds of garlic, tahini, hummus, and hot sauce pooling at the bottom of your heavy two-handed shawarma.
You know this. I know this. The guy sawing the moist crunchy chicken off the spit knows this. Everybody knows this! So what do we do? Assemble armors of twisted wax and tissue papers, tight aluminum foils, and skinny paper bags so we might briefly delay . . . the gushing.
It happens slowly at first.
A little white drop with an orange oil spot inside it lands on the tray. And just as you notice it . . . there is another. Suddenly you’re Malcolm in Jurassic Park staring at the plastic cup of water on the dash. Thump, thump, now a drip, now a stream. The wax paper overflow compartments are filling up and you know your shawarma is sinking.
What do you do?
For the love of all that is holy you frantically bite, bite, and bite some more. Close your eyes and stab that shawarma like a frenzied shark. Bite that pink pickled turnip, bite that vinegary tabouli, bite those hot crispy fries. Garlic sauce drips down your chin, hummus mascaras your eyelashes, and two tiny cubes ofchopped tomato briefly clog your nostrils till you lurch back and gasp at the ceiling for air.
Gushing liquids coat your hands and slide down your arms but you keep going and going and going—turning your head sideways for air like you’re doing a front crawl—until yes, yes, yes, yes, you are biting bits of wet pita because you successfully made it to the final folds.
Congratulations!
You made it to the end of the shawarma without the whole thing falling into a pathetic wet pile of slop.
Now look up and smile slowly at me as I smile slowly at you. Let’s lean back and twirl on our plastic bolted chairs and laugh because our faces look like they’re coated in cake batter and blood.
Let’s stare into the dark, past the glass, past the flashing neon sign, past the barren parking lot, up and over the empty main drag in this quiet town and the dark, dark forests beyond.
It’s late, late, late on a Tuesday and everyone is quiet and sleeping but we’re out and we’re moving and we’re wild and we’re grooving and we both know this is totally
AWESOME!