Taco Bell

I must have felt like abuse for dinner, with a side of heartburn, and that's why I stopped by Taco Bell. The manager was a bundle of personality and customer service.

It must have taken so much energy to repeat that order back to me, swipe my card, and then rest his arm on the register instead of handing back my card. It wasn't like I handed him a Black American Express card with a $10,000 limit on it.

Maybe he lost his voice, because he never called out my ticket number. It must have taken so much energy to plop that tray of food on the counter.  I mean, what else could top this fine dining experience?

Well, two things. First, his name is "Jennifer L.", or at least that's what the receipt says. The other? There was a drunk woman passed out in the dining area.

Who knew going to Taco Hell would include a dinner show?

On the spectrum between "Eating to live" and "Living to Eat" this is clearly the former.  That said, for the money it really is among the best you can do. I once fed four teenage girls and myself for $10.21.  We didn't engorge ourselves but simply ate a meal to stay alive until our next meal.   Four stars mean I am a fan of a cheap meal that is healthier than what is next door and certainly has more flavor than most fast food.  I can save my money up and then venture out for a 5star 'living to eat' adventure in the future.

The food itself tasted okay, but the way it was made sucked.  The workers just plop a big pile of slop in one corner, another pile of slop in another corner, etc.  When you bite into your food, you get a mouthful of tomato, then your next mouthful might be entirely sour cream.  They would get more stars if they took the time to actually make the food properly.  It's so obvious that they don't give a crap about what you think of their food.