Taqueria Velazquez ~ South Los Angeles

I parked on the street, walked towards the truck, and got about halfway when I had this creepy feeling of someone watching me. I turned back to my car but didn’t see anyone. I looked all around. Then I saw a dog run by me nervously. It was a pit bull or Staffordshire bull terrier or a Rottweiler or maybe not even a dog at all. Something told me to just go back. The truck was so bright, the street was so dark; the bulbs hanging from the wires along the truck were like lights on a runway guiding me in. I got the feeling I wasn’t ready for this truck. Whatever it was I wasn’t ready for it. I didn’t need it. The people standing near the truck stared over at me. They knew I wasn’t ready for it. I knew I wasn’t ready for it. Everyone knew. The dogs knew. The crickets knew. The night knew.

I was back on Vermont driving north when I saw a truck at the corner of Gage at a car wash. I parked on the lot and walked up to the counter and ordered. I was ready for this truck. The girl inside the truck smiled. The patrons smiled. I ordered my tacos.