Taco Viva

Periodically on the "Palm Beaches Remembered" page on Facebook are recollections of the long gone fast food chain Taco Viva.   The memories shared are quite fond.  They lament that no one serves a "wet burrito" these days.  They also rightly proclaim that Taco Bell has nothing on the place.   I have my own (mostly) favorable memories, having worked there part time in the mid 1980s.  I was in high school, looking for some extra spending cash.   I started during my junior year, working through the summer and a bit into my senior year.

I closed on weekends, which meant I wasn't done until about 2 A.M. Thank God we didn't have a drive thru.  We scrubbed that restaurant to a gleam, lemme tell ya.  It was sorta fun to mop and wipe while listening to Ozzy Osbourne, Steely Dan (who I was just getting into), and Rush.   I did not have a car so my father dutifully picked me up at that ungodly hour.  As most of my co-workers smoked marijuana right in the kitchen (and it was usually clouded heavily with the smoke), my tacky Southwestern designed uniform reeked of it by the end of my shift and I was always mildly concerned my father thought I might've partaken.  I never did, at least in those days.  He never inquired about that smell I brought into his vehicle.

My co-workers, in addition to being potheads, were generally good people.  They seemed very worldly to me, someone who grew up in an hermetic church bubble.  Yes, I had gone to public school since the third grade but had never been around those who spent Sunday mornings nursing hangovers rather than opening hymnals. They told me of their hedonistic lives, blowing their paychecks on intoxicants.  But a few others were supporting their families.  The mix of ages was significant.  One of the older ladies seemed to have problems with cognition.  She did not ring the cash register; she did things like "stock the line" - replacing supplies and food along the areas where tacos, burritos, tostadas, etc. were built.

Larry was the guy I worked with the most. Cool dude.  He drove a loud muscle car (maybe a Chevelle?) and smoked a lot of cigarettes. Always wore a white T-shirt.  He and I lit (and flung) illegal fireworks in the parking lot on the 4th of July.  He also tried to fix me up with another co-worker, whose name escapes me.  I wasn't interested; there were too many girls at my high school and at church who were more appealing and seemingly compatible. Larry and I had a few arguments, nothing serious.  I remember brooding in the large walk in cooler after one of them, a place I liked hanging out in anyway.  When my wife and I go to Costco, I always volunteer to get the kale from a similar fridge room there.

So many memories.  I was forever called in to cover for someone on my days off.  I used to turn the outside bucket washer (a vertical spray of water) full blast and watch it push upwards of twenty feet.   I rang up some of my high school classmates who mocked me for working there.  Eventually, we were told to put fewer strands of cheddar cheese on the tacos to save money (everyone ignored this).  I, a minor, served beer to customers.  I did not consume as much of it as you're probably guessing.  Honestly.  I did eat countless corn chips.  My manager and assistant manager, who were homosexual lovers, sent me across the street to Publix to buy their cigarettes. No one carded you in those days.  I also chatted with some of the prostitutes who would come in for an iced tea and a break from South Dixie Highway.  Some rough tales were told.

I usually made the guacamole.  Even though the avocado pulp came in a bag the resulting dip concoction was pretty damned good.  The combination of the pulp, sour cream, pico de gallo,  onions, and lemon juice was just right, thank you very much.  Was it as good as the freshly morter and pestled guac you get tableside at places like Rocco's Tacos these days? Maybe not, but I liked it.  So did many others, a loyal following that savored all the specialties, like El Scorcho hot sauce and those delectable bunuelos (crispy cinnamon strips).  The food was good.  The commercials were amusing.  When you said taco, you said "viva".

Note: My location is seen in the bottom left picture.  It closed not even a decade after I left.  It is now a Dunkin Donuts.