While I’m not really a proponent of fast food intake on a regular basis (and am all for a fast food tax), I do love me some Taco Bell.
It’s been a huge part of my life since I was, oh I dunno, 10 years old? My best friend and I would ride our bikes to the Border after a long day of fishing for Bluegill in Denver. He always got the pintos and cheese which I thought was a disgusting choice. I much preferred the Taco Bell Grande, minus the tomatoes. In high school my friends and I would hit up the Bell after a crazy night on the town and laugh hysterically about the gas that ensued. One friend purposely tried to maximize the amount of refried beans he consumed, purely for the fire power. As a poor college student, my friends and I would walk across campus in our pajamas to feast on a twelve pack of tacos. I guess you could say that it’s been a staple part of my diet for a long time now.
But now living in DC I am deprived of the grade F meaty goodness. Please don’t tell me to eat at the Taco Bell/KFC combo at 14th & U. That place is a disgrace to the Taco Bell establishment. “Yes, I’d like a burrito supreme with a side order of hepatitis. Oh, and a Mountain Dew with extra mildew in my ice cubes.” Luckily we are fortunate to have a nearby state called Virginia that is full of strip malls and fast food restaurants, enabling me to treat myself to a Mexican Pizza now and then, and for that I thank you*. My stomach thanks you.
If you’re listening, Taco Bell, hear my plea. We have McDonald’s, Burger King, Wendy’s, and entirely too many Subways. All I’m asking for is one good Taco Bell. Trust me, my friends and I will keep you in business.
* – I also thank Virginia for the hot women who seem to migrate into the city during the night and vanish when the sun comes up.
Photo by Porky Jupp.
This post appeared in its original form at DC Metblogs