The decor is the star at Texas Taco, from the moment you park your car on the fancifully painted lot, and walk past the toys and carnival horses and tot-size toy Indian motorcycle in the front yard, up the wonky steps into the other-worldly interior.
Pass the sign that says "No photos," then place your order right inside the door with Rosemary, an eye-makeup goddess who would make Divine look sedate. Find a seat at a glass-topped table festooned with a half-dozen layers of gauze and lame and chintz and Xmas lights. Add your business card to the scores already tucked under the glass. Then, as you await the arrival of your food, let your eyes feast on the lava lamps, the bust of Elvis, the gold-painted saddle, the photos of Marilyn, the neon sign, bead curtains, and scores of other miscellaneous strange and kitschy items.
Be sure to visit the restroom. At an unexpected moment you may be serenaded by Ringo singing "Act Naturally" or Gloria Gaynor's "I Will Survive." An enormous clam shell subs as a wastebasket, the sink and toilet seat are gold encrusted, a skull serves as a doorknob ... you won't want to leave, there's too much to look at.
The list of food available is short and simple (tacos, hot dogs, burritos, chili); it's tasty, freshly prepared while you wait and dirt cheap (most items are two or three bucks); there's always classic rock playing. The place is a total trip. Go. Now.
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