Recently, it was revealed that Quick Pita will be closing at the end of 2016 (on December 31, to be precise). You can imagine the effect this news has had on me, a connoisseur of late-night food. When I heard the news, I had a meltdown comparable to that of a catastrophic nuclear accident.
Many of my fellow Quick Pita regulars reacted similarly as I gently broke the news to them. In fact, some of them threatened to transfer. Hogan Lizza (COL ’19), a devout Quick Pita enthusiast, commented, “Georgetown without Quick Pita is like the Cincinnati Zoo without Harambe.” I couldn’t have phrased it better myself. Quick Pita has been around for decades, and life will just not be the same without it.
The increase in rent has left Quick Pita with no other choice but to move out. I, for one, plan on venturing there every weekend until they close. I also felt Quick Pita could not go without a proper sendoff. With a nod to Edgar Allan Poe, here is 4E’s tale of the Quick Pita we know and love:
Once upon a midnight dreary, while I wandered, drunk and weary,
Thinking about my ~classy~ night out on the dance floor,
As I ambled, nearly stopping, I heard a great number of people talking,
Talking of Middle Eastern food, of a place where I had never been before.
“Just a small eatery,” I thought, “hopefully cheaper than Epi because I’m poor.”
Only this, and nothing more.
I looked up this “Quick Pita” and set off for my potential hangover cure.
I hurried down Potomac Street, both hungry and eager to explore,
Eager to learn more about this eatery of Georgetown folklore.
Once I arrived, I took in the striped awning and the hole-in-the-wall that would help me score,
Help me score my freshman 15, something to soon happen, of that I was sure.
Quick Pita, I soon realized, would make me fat, forever more.
Deep into the VCE darkness returning, I ate my chicken fingers and cheesy fries, still learning,
Learning about this wonderful taste, about to tell my friends they had to come with me.
But they didn’t listen, they said Darnall was too far from this place.
But I knew they’d come with me at some point, on my life I swore.
Eventually they ventured to Quick Pita, and their lives were changed when they walked through the double-doors.
Their hearts were changed–forevermore.
Quick Pita became my solace, a refuge for me, whether or not I was sober.
The chicken fingers, the cheesy fries, the gyro kept me coming back for more.
I got on the scale after finals last year, and yelped in horror.
My parents asked me why I gained so much weight, how I didn’t notice my expanding core,
I told them how I frequently followed the Quick Pita spoor,
The spoor that would haunt my dreams-forevermore.
It was an ordinary night in September this year when I found out what would happen,
What would happen to Quick Pita, my dear Quick Pita, my savior.
Someone’s Snapstory said that Quick Pita was closing and raised a fury among students.
This was just something that I could not ignore.
I marched down to Potomac Street in the middle of a downpour.
I had to confirm that Quick Pita would be open (I couldn’t take not knowing anymore).
I strolled in and walked up to Sammy, the cashier who any Quick Pita regular knows.
I said to him, “Is it true you’re closing? If you say yes, I may start sobbing on the floor.”
He looked at me and said in a sad voice:
“Our landlord raised rent by forty percent, we can pay it no more.”
I replied, “Is there any way at all you can stay open? This is a place I really adore.”
Quoth Sammy, ever so honest, “Nevermore.”
I walked home, depressed and defeated.
I told my friends and all acquaintances of the tragedy, the end of the food we all go for.
We all protested, and we in 4E ranted when we heard the news.
The neighborhood took away Rhino, now this? It’s like we’re at war.
But for now, all we can do is sit here and deplore.
For come 2017, Quick Pita’s doors shall be open – nevermore.
And Sammy, never moving, still is sitting, still is sitting,
Sitting at the counter, aimlessly staring at the eccentric, yet lovable, decor.
And his eyes have all the seeming of a good man that is dreaming,
And the fluorescent light over him casts his shadow on the tiled floor;
And the amazing food that we eat after leaving the Brown House dance floor
Shall be from Quick Pita – nevermore!
Photos/Gifs: giphy.com, yelpcdn.com
