It’s me, your little fan. How are you? I’m good. I know that it’s only been like, three hours since we last saw each other, but I can’t help it! I need to tell you how much I. LOVE. YOU.
My mom says it’s crazy to be in love with a taco. I told her that if she didn’t get out of my room in THREE. SECONDS. FLAT. I’d run away with you and she’d never see me again. We’d move into a little apartment in the city, and you’d get a job in a record store and I’d stay home and watch the Food Network and cook you gourmet dinners. I’d knit you little sweaters to keep you warm on the subway during the winter. On weekends, we’d take the bus to Central Park and I’d cradle your little shell in my arms as we walked around and talked about our hopes and dreams. You’d buy me balloons, and we’d skip stones across the lake. Maybe we’d count our pennies and split a hot dog. It would be very romantic.
She said, “Sharon, you’re talking about a goddamned taco, for Christ’s sake! Get a grip!”
And that’s when I slammed the door in her stupid face.
Volcano, I’ve loved others, but none as much as you. My first love, the (now hated) Cheesy Chicken Gordita, burned me badly time after time. His cheese warmed me, and his chicken filled me, but I always felt kicked in the gut about 20 minutes after he was gone. It was only later that I realized that he was literally tearing my insides up. I was naive! I didn’t know. He was my first.
I broke it off and then started a long and steady relationship with the 7-Layer Burrito. I never thought our good times would end. But one day, he was gone. I asked them about him, but they said he had just, disappeared. Somewhere out where the wild burritos roam. I like to think that there’s someplace out on the open range, where wild burritos can be free. Where they can toss their virile manes as they gallop in slow motion.
In time, I got over my intense feelings of abandonment and took up a brief but powerful romance with the Cheesy Double Beef Burrito. But alas — as you know –I got a little obsessive over him, and ended up paying the price for my love. They say it’s the first time a burrito’s successfully won a restraining order in a California court. So, you know, that’s a legal precedent.
But none of that matters anymore, because I’ve found you, Volcano Taco the Third. You’re so spicy, so exotic. You burn me sometimes, but I love you always.
Just when I thought the great Taco Bell in the sky couldn’t create a more perfect menu item, there you were, with your intriguing red shell and surprisingly hot Chipotle sauce. I will never let you go, Volcano. That’s why I’ve seen you twice already today… once at breakfast, and again two hours later for lunch. I know they say I’ve seen you too much already, but I may visit you again for dinner, and if you’re good, for the sacred Fourth Meal. I don’t know. I don’t keep a schedule. That’s life with me; unpredictable.
You’re hot, and you make ME hot. I’m literally salivating right now, thinking of you. Now, don’t you go running off like so many of your fellow tacos and burritos. I won’t bite! I just swallow.