rev:text
| - This place is the burrito equivalent of the classic one-man used-books store: cramped, dim, not exactly spick-and-span, and a little confusing at first. The kind of place where the owner has his own system for sorting the books onto unfinished plank shelves and he puts your musty purchases into plastic bags bearing the logos of several different grocery chains.
So, Taco Tonto's: Climb the concrete steps, shuffle around the stools and see the menu on the back wall. Wonder: Where do I order? Then notice that what you thought was just an opening from the kitchen to the dining area is, in fact, where orders are taken. Order, get your chips and salsa right away, and grab a stool by a narrow ledge to wait. The order of chips is massive and begin to realize you've overestimated your hunger.
Hear your name called and look around, confused. Walk up to the opening where you ordered and just see people busy cooking. Look through and see there's a window cut into the wall on the other side of the kitchen. Go back around to the entrance, down a short, narrow hallway, and find your order waiting. Or, at least, what you think is your order. Get somebody's attention and ask; yes, it's yours.
Grab your plasticware from the side of the soda machine, where there are also some slightly grubby-looking squirt bottles of hot sauce.
Discover that the burrito is good -- but probably much better if it were late at night and you were a poor, starving college student. Realize that it's been many years since you were that. Sob gently into your chicken burrito. Leave at least a third of it behind when you bus your own spot and leave.
|