We were seated outside of civilization.
“Oh, hello, yoo hoo…” (think: fingers tapping impatiently) “We’re over here and we’re hungry!”
It’s well after 9 p.m. Quite a while ago the IHop hostess seated my friends and me in a lonely corner booth. When we first entered the restaurant, we noticed a packed house, tables full of families clinking coffee cups and chowing down on pancakes adorned in mountains of luscious whipped cream. The hostess marched our party of four past these happy tables where adults chatted and children hooted. She led us to the back room, crammed with vacant tables. Perhaps, I thought, a server assigned to this section needed some business and the hostess decided to help out by seating us in the back room. I didn’t realize IHop would need to hire someone off the street before we would get service. Hours passed, then weeks, and not one server approached our table. Perhaps I exaggerate the length of time we waited. But how long does it take for someone to acknowledge us and take our order?