(4.5 stars based on 168 reviews)
Categories: Fast Food, Roadside Attractions, Mexican Food [Edit]
Address: unknown (mobile)
Phone: No phone.
168 Reviews for Miguel's Taco Express - Displaying 163-166
I LOVE YOU MIGUEL!
Posted by rebeccastevens [Read other reviews by rebeccastevens]
when my daughter died i did not think there was any reason to continue AT ALL. my husband tried to be supportive, but the depression just crippled me and everything reminded me of death, including him.
i decided i wanted to be with my daughter again so i made the decision to just drive off the road one day. to just drive off the road and be done with it all!
i hit the accelerator as fast as i could while on top a hill and drove down toward the nice busy intersection below. i thought about my daughter the whole way down. her face becoming clearer and clearer the closer i got. when the impact occurred i could almost see her smiling again.
that's when I heard a man yell "hey senorita" at me. there was a mexican man and he climbed through the burning wreckage and handed me a taco. "it's very good" he said and then pointed to his miguel's taco express truck which i had not noticed before due to all the pain and the fire. i started to eat the taco but unfortunately i was pinned in the car and bleeding and passed out.
i left the hospital two weeks later and immediately divorced my husband. miguel was the only man for me, andi want so much to find him and be with him. i don't remember much but i remember that his tacos were great and he made me forget all about my daughter. i love him very much.
I REGRET THAT I ONLY HAVE FIVE STARS TO GIVE TO MIGUEL
Posted by d-gonzales [Read other reviews by d-gonzales]
After being laid off work, I worried how I would provide for my family. My wife and I struggled to make ends meet and I took whatever jobs came my way. These included working as a day laborer, a clown at children's parties, and licking envelopes for an elderly man who lost his tongue in the war and liked writing letters to magazines.
All of these experiences sucked the life out of me and made me want to get away from it all. The wife, the kids, they became like anchors pulling me into the sea. When I could breathe no more, Miguel's hand reached down and pulled me to the surface.
"Hola, Amigo!" He said. "Hola!" I said back.
"Have a taco! It's very good."
I don't even remember how I got to his taco truck. I just remember going to bed one night and waking up by the side of the road 200 miles away in the New Mexico desert at Miguel's taco truck. I ate the taco, then I was back in bed the next morning and the gas tank was on empty.
I am very grateful and thankful that the Lord was able to give me a sign. I knew then that it was my duty to find Miguel and follow his teachings. I sold off what items my family had and told my wife to take the kids and go live with her parents because I was busy with more important matters.
She cried and cried and so did the kids but I stayed focused and left that dead weight behind. I have used every cent I own going from town to town trying to find Miguel, talking to other Miguel followers, and looking for my destiny.
Miguel, if you read this, please get in contact with me. Your tacos were fabulous, man!
Miguel's Tacos are an Answered Prayer
Posted by samathatr87 [Read other reviews by samathatr87]
The doctors told me I had a week at most to live. I chose to die at home, with my things, rather than die in some sterile hospital that was cold and lonely.
On what felt like my last day of life, I decided to walk to the beach. It was only a quarter of a mile and as much pain as the cancer caused me, it was not enough to dissuade me from seeing the sunset one last time.
My slow but deliberate turtle march to the beach was interrupted when I heard a man yell, "Hola, senorita!"
I looked and saw a nice Mexican man with a taco van a few feet away.
"Have a taco," he said.
"Oh," I responded reluctantly. "I couldn't handle that. I have stomach cancer."
He frowned for a moment. Then he smiled and said, "Hola, senorita! Have a taco!"
His smile was so vibrant and alive I couldn't say no again. No one else seemed to notice his van and I felt bad for him. I didn't want to make him frown and what was a little more pain going to do to me?
I took a bite of the taco he handed me, and to my surprise it tasted very good and caused no additional pain. In fact, it even lessoned the pain. It put me in sort of a daze. I remember the sunset at the beach, and I even remember the sunrise. I don't remember what became of Miguel or his taco van, but I just know that I felt alive and reborn the next day. The doctors couldn't make heads or tails of what happened to me. The cancer was gone, and I owe it all to Miguel.
I am alive with renewed purpose, and that purpose is to find Miguel's Taco Express van. This is why I'm alive. The desire to find Miguel is eating me up inside and it's all I want in the world. Nothing else matters now.
As the 19th century diver approaches a giant clam, a flash of brilliant golden light flares from within the shell. I emerge in a swirl of bubbles and do the timeless universal underwater hand signals for the following: ZODIAC KILLER, KKK, BLOOD OF YOUTH
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