Taco Bell in Rapid City

“It took more than 5 minutes for the person on the speaker box to get back to us. When ordering, I said 1 Mt dew and 1 Mt dew zero, and the person on the box said, "Do you want to make it two Mt dew zero, and the answer was yes. We got 1 Mt dew and 1 Mt dew zero.“

“I've eaten at a majority of the Taco Bells this state has to offer. This one has always been consistent. The only time my order did not go as planned is once they were out of baja blast which is understandable. Always friendly and order is always top quality Taco Bell and out in very timely manner. Today I asked if they stick had the 90s luxe craving box and they did not carry it anymore. The person working thr drive thru suggested the other luxe craving box and how it was similar. As a Taco Bell lover I appreciated that.“

“January 01, 2025

My partner and I ventured to the Taco Bell on Cathedral Drive for lunch after work. The interior was clean and updated, gleaming under fluorescent lights that seemed just a little too bright--bright enough, perhaps, to illuminate secrets best left in shadow. Outside, a RCPD vehicle circled the building like a hawk eyeing its prey. A coincidence? An officer on lunch break? Or something more profound? This marked my second unsettlingly close encounter with RCPD that day. I took note, as one should.

We decided to split the Crispy Chicken Nuggets Deluxe Meal, a feast of decadence and excess: five crispy chicken nuggets with a choice of sauce, a crunchy taco, a Chalupa Supreme, seasoned fries, nacho cheese sauce, and a medium fountain drink. For the uninitiated, this is not just a meal but a ritual, a series of textures and flavors designed to challenge and satiate.

I requested a Doritos Locos Crunchy Taco instead of the standard offering, a harmless substitution--or so I thought.

As I placed the order, an employee who wasn't handling the register approached. He was an enigma of a man, his two-day stubble an ode to disarray, his eyes brimming with a wild, untamed knowledge. His voice boomed across the counter, echoing like a prophet issuing a decree: "We only have the Signature Bell Sauce."

It wasn't a request, nor an apology--it was a warning. I nodded, attempting to convey my acceptance. The Bell Sauce would suffice. But the man was unmoved. He repeated his proclamation, louder, as if the air itself had resisted carrying his words. Was he hard of hearing? Or was he trying to ensure that I truly understood?

Perhaps he knew something I did not. What could lie behind this strange absence of sauces? A supply chain issue? A disruption in the fabric of reality? Or was the Bell Sauce itself the only thing standing between us and an unspeakable doom?

I confirmed, out loud this time, that the Bell Sauce was fine. His reaction was... strange. His stance shifted as if bracing against an unseen force, his voice rising once more: "We only have Bell Sauce. Is that okay?"

I cannot stop wondering if I failed to decode the deeper meaning in his words, a message veiled in corporate jargon. Was I meant to heed his warning, to flee the premises while I still could?

We placed the order anyway. I chose a Diet Mountain Dew as my drink, a decision made not out of desire but necessity. As a Diet Coke and Coke Zero loyalist, this was no small compromise, but it had nothing to do with the establishment. It was a personal cross to bear.

When the food arrived, we discovered the Signature Bell Sauce was missing entirely. We had to request it, a minor inconvenience--but also an omen. Could it be that the sauce wasn't merely missing but intentionally withheld, a test of some kind? Or was it, perhaps, never meant to be delivered at all?

The meal itself was as expected: warm, flavorful, and acceptable in every way. The seasoned fries were crisp, the nuggets delightfully fried, and the Doritos Locos Crunchy Taco as vibrant as ever. Still, I left the Cathedral Drive Taco Bell with a lingering sense of unease, as though I had witnessed something I wasn't meant to see, felt the brush of something cosmic and unknowable.

Would I return? Certainly. But I will tread carefully, for the mysteries of the Bell Sauce and the ever-watchful gaze of the RCPD remain unsolved.“

“I ALWAYS order chicken cantina crunchy tacos and this Taco Bell location is the absolute consistently BEST out of them all. I travel all over the United States, I practically live in my vehicle and this location is the only one who gets it right and amazing every single time!
I recommend this location all the time.
I was in Coeur d’Alene Idaho last week and their chicken cantina tacos were so horrible, I had to go to Del Taco the 3 weeks while I was there.
Thank you for keeping your chicken cantina tacos the best ever so I don’t need to eat anywhere else!
Bravo! 5 stars!! ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️“

“January 02, 2025

After work, my partner and I ventured to the Taco Bell on East Stumer Road. Our decision was deliberate, a calculated attempt to escape the echoes of the Bell Sauce incident at the Cathedral Drive location. But fate--or something darker--had other plans.

From the moment we stepped inside, we were struck by the unsettlingly modern and artistic interior. It wasn't just clean or stylish; it was too clean, too stylish, as though the building was trying to distract us from noticing something it didn't want us to see. An unspoken tension hung in the air, woven into the carefully curated decor.

And then we saw him.

The same man.

Down to the last haunted detail--the two-day stubble, the wild knowledge burning behind his eyes--he stood there, at this location, just as he had the day before at Cathedral Drive. My mind raced. Was this his twin? A clone? Could he possibly work at both locations, darting across the city with the speed of a creature not bound by the laws of time or space?

My partner and I exchanged a glance, a silent agreement not to ask questions. Some truths are best left undiscovered. Mercifully, the man was preoccupied, his attention elsewhere. And today, we weren't ordering chicken nuggets. The existence--or lack--of sauces did not concern us.

I ordered the Cheesy Double Beef Burrito, while my partner chose the Cantina Chicken Crispy Taco. The total came to just over $6, a price so affordable it bordered on the miraculous. The food itself was exactly what one would expect from Taco Bell: warm, flavorful, and reliable.

Yet, as we ate, I couldn't shake the unease. The modern interior, the man who should not be there--it all felt like a deliberate construction, as though this location were a stage and we were unwitting players in a performance we didn't understand.

I will return to this Taco Bell. But I will return not just for the burritos or tacos, but for answers--or, perhaps, to see if the questions themselves have changed.“