The Nacho Man Cometh: Summer’s Crunchiest Urban Legend

Some neighborhoods got the ice cream truck. Mine? We had *The Nacho Man*. He drove a converted soft-serve truck, now completely painted to look like a giant vehicle oozing with neon cheese. The rooftop cone had been swapped out for an oversized tortilla chip. And the speaker system? Still intact — except now it blasted a lo-fi salsa remix of circus music. It made no sense, and that made it perfect. 

He wasn’t dishing out popsicles. He was slinging nachos. Specifically, his signature *Choco Nacho*: cinnamon-sugar tortilla chips covered in warm chocolate drizzle, gooey marshmallow ribbons, crushed peanuts, and two off-brand candy eyeballs staring into your soul. He once made a nacho platter shaped like a famous cartoon plumber — no one asked for it, but we all ordered it.

And it wasn’t just sweets. His savory lineup rotated weekly — brisket with cherry cola glaze, dill pickle and ranch, buffalo tofu with blue cheese crumbles. The guy was a culinary outlaw, doing 25 mph through the suburbs with a bubbling vat of mystery cheese in the back and zero regard for zoning laws. No social media.

No posted route. Just an engine, a dream, and a truck that looked like a snack hallucination. Some say he’s still out there, rumbling from block to block with a new batch of unhinged nachos and a slightly melted grin. 

And if you’re lucky? You’ll hear that warped jingle… and you’ll know.