Taco Cabana at 410 and Nacogdoches

You may know Taco Cabana by its pink trim, fresh flour tortillas, and the ubiquitous transients borrowing benches at the always-nearby bus stops, but I remember a Taco Cabana from back in its heyday: Late-80's, Early-90's.  Open 24-7, it was cheap, and thus always welcoming to drunken local College (and High School) students and Dodgers of the law.

The service was friendly, the patio perfect, and the salsa bar a veritable all-you-can-eat for those of us people too cheap to buy more than a dozen tortillas for a dollar.

Then - as is often the case - some guy from Houston came in, ruined everything, stole the idea, and opened up some splinter Taco Cabana called 'Two Pesos.'  Though the Stehling family got the Court to cut this guy off at the tea bags, the 'taco-joint-with-a-nice-patio' concept was put in plain view for all the world to see, quickly becoming the guy down at the docks selling fakes as though they were the genuine article.

Now, Taco Cabana is a shell of its former self: a semi-decent, "at-least-I-know-it's-beef' Tex-Mex joint that really only tastes good after one's sobriety has been seasoned by a Guinness or four.

But this isn't some hack restaurant review blog (this is), this is about Men's Rooms, baby, and the Men's Room at Taco Cabana on 410 and Nacogdoches is clean... TOO clean.

I'm flattered.  Now where's my newspaper?

Ha!  "Caballeros."  The days of the gentleman with long, pointed-toe cowboy boots and thick mustaches are a distant memory at this Taco Cabana.  You think that Dos Equis guy would pick out THESE tiles?  At any rate, the door was a pleasant blue, and the hallway was very clean.

The view when you first walk in.  

You open the door and think, "This looks pretty nice.  I wonder if... AHH!  IT BURNS!!!"  The bleach fumes were so powerful and overwhelming, they punched holes in my lungs when I first took in this place for Caballeros.  I couldn't scream for help.  Whatever fungus / virus / bacteria was in there surely had no chance at surviving.  This place was STERILE.

Eyes... watering.  Must... get... wipe...

A near-empty double-roll toilet paper dispenser.  Inexcusable.  There's no reason anybody should ever run low on this stuff.  Over a HALF-MILE of two-ply is within this thing when fully loaded!  Just as I was getting upset, I realized everything was going to be okay.  Because, you see...

Aww!

... Someone was nice enough to leave a strip hanging on the door for me.  How thought... MY EYES!!!

Sinkinal

Sink with hot water?  Check.  Soap?  Check.  Urinal that flushes and has no cigarette butts swimming around?  Check and check.  Gotta move on.  Lungs... Burning!

Mirror, Mirror, on the wall... wait.  What?

A mirror above everything, angled down toward the sink so we can check out our... cleavage?  Huh?  Tremendous design flaw.  A mirror like this is only good for staring down our own shirts, and making sure our bald spot is covered (or, at least, less noticeable).

Two out of Five Pucks.  I'd go on, but I'm still nauseous.