Missing: The Tamale Lady

Cute little Mexican mamasita.  Toting fresh tamales on a make-shift wagon.  Selling them on select street corners for a buck.  Pork, chicken, and cheese. 

For months and MONTHS I saw this lady working her little biznass in the neighborhoods south of BYU campus.  I always thought to myself, "One day...just ONE DAY...I will purchase one of her tamales."  You know, help a madre out.  This train wreck of an economy leaves no one unscathed--not even the street peddlers.  But alas, my road to Hell kept getting longer as I continued to lay brick after brick of good intentions.   

Three or four weeks ago, while descending the South Campus Stairs of Death, I spotted the Tamale Lady across the street.  "ARRRRIBA!"  I exclaimed, inwardly.  "I'm actually NOT in a hurry and, whoa!, there's even a one-dollar bill in my wallet (both rarities, indeed)!!" 

I approached the Woman of the Hour, working up enough courage to practice the 5 words of Spanish I picked up off the streets of So Cal as a small child.  "Uh....unu....tamale...uh, pollo!  Muchos gracias!"

It was delicious.  Heavenly.  Best tamale I ever did eat.  And sadly, the last...

...BECAAUUSE, the Tamale Lady is nowhere to be found!  Is this some cruel joke?  Some vicious prank being played by the Mexican food gods that watch over us day and night from up on Montaña Olimpo?!?!  For months I saw this lady nearly every day and once I FINALLY partook of her ambrosial goods, she left me high and dry, my mouth still salivating and my mind in a trance.  

There's no other logical explanation for her sudden disappearnce other than....that....she is an angel.  She was just waiting to bless one last soul--for me to buy a delicious home-made tamale before she could spread her wings and leave this God-forsaken land of vending machine chimichangas and microwavable burritos.  Her work in this life is finished.  Well done, thou good and faithful tamale peddler.