The greatest thing on this planet is Taco Bell. Period. Nothing can capture the emotions that I have when I place a taco from Taco Bell in my mouth. My mouth is watering now at the thought of it.

I was recently finishing a research paper for my English class when my hunger hit me like a Mike Tyson punch to the face.

I decided to take a break from the paper and travel down Mockingbird to that small little haven by Mockingbird Station.

I couldn’t stop thinking about how delicious those tacos were going to be.

As I pulled into the drive-thru I looked at the menu, although I didn’t need to because I already knew what I was getting and how many of each item I would be ordering. I went to the next screen to order.

“Hi. Welcome to Taco Bell,” that sweet voice whispered to me through the loudspeaker. “Can I interest you in a Nacho Supreme?”

“No need my friend. I’ll have three Cheesy Gordita Crunches and a Dr. Pepper. That’s it.”

“Oh, I’m sorry sir. We’re actually out of taco shells.”

Excuse me? What was that?

“I’m sorry. I thought you said you were out of taco shells.”

“That’s what I said. We’re out of taco shells.”

This couldn’t be happening. I panicked. I just said in a quiet still voice, “Thank you…”

I left Taco Bell, crushed and alone. And hungry. And mad.

Crushed and alone because I had no new companions to join me on my journey back to Peyton Hall. Hungry because, well, I had no tacos to eat. But the important element was anger.

How could a taco fast food restaurant run out of taco shells? That’s like Jimmy John’s running out of bread (Oh wait, that happens often. Bad example).

I had to settle with Whataburger, which was great, but not what I wanted. When you want Taco bell and you don’t get it, you cannot feel anything but sadness, regret and depression.

I vowed to never return to Taco Bell until they got taco shells again.

They had taco shells today.

John Paul Green is a freshman theater major. He can be reached for comment at [email protected].