Yo (No) Quiero Taco Bell

In a rare bit of frantic optimism, based solely on some rose-tinted nostalgia, we decided it was entirely necessary this afternoon to acquire some Taco Bell. Once you get an idea in your head, especially one that involves procuring fast food, it’s hard to shake it.

Except the reality slipped both of our minds just a touch. The last time I had Taco Bell was probably ten years ago and I completely decided to forget that it was like eating a burrito filled with refried bean lava and disappointment.

It’s sort of encouraging to see that not a lot has changed and slightly irritating to realize there’s still more flavour in the packaging than there is in any food Taco Bell serves. It’s what Mexican food tastes like if you remove every last trace of Mexico - every spice, anything resembling real cheese, anything with a modicum of zing and anything that involves the decapitated head of a drug lord.

I’m kidding about the last part. That only comes with the combo meal.

If desperation had a flavour, it would be Taco Bell.

I ate my 7 Layer Burrito, frowning that the kid on the register promised me no lettuce (seriously, shredded lettuce is for rabbits and deviants) yet suspiciously seemed to neglect to inform the burrito maker of this.

“I bet you three hundred bucks I get lettuce.” I said to God, before the food arrived.

“Well he pressed some button when you asked for that.” said God. “But despite this, I fear you’re right.”

I upped the wager. “I bet you another three hundred bucks that the part of your order when you said ‘can I have the volcano meal without the hot part?’ means your food shows up with more jalapenos than the whole of Mexico City on ‘National Jalapeno Day’.”

“Again, I fear you are right.” replied God.

God is wise. He knows.

“Besides…” I reminded him, “He didn’t press anything when you asked. I don’t think there’s a button on that till for ‘lose the heat’.”

“Sure there is,” said God, “It’s right next to the button that says ‘Spit on this guy’s food for being picky.’”

So indeed I got lettuce and God got enough jalapenos to set an entire town on fire and the food STILL lacked taste or spice.

The thing is, it’s sort of hard to fuck up Mexican food if you have the ingredients, because Mexican food by its very definition, is tasty. If you look up “tasty” in the dictionary I bet there’s a Mexican flag next to it. Even if you go wrong, it’s still tastily edible. The Mexicans know their shit when it comes to cooking. 

Neither of our meals included even the basics – no salsa, guacamole or sour cream. The cheese was that mystery orange goo they give you in movie theatres with nachos, that is designed to scald your taste buds on the first attempt, so you can’t tell that it has no flavour. I bet NASA made that “cheese” at some point to deal with those pesky tiles that keep falling off the space shuttle.

Taco Bell is magic. The first time you go they implant a chip in your food that you swallow, which then embeds itself in your gut and activates at certain times in the future making you immediately crave Taco Bell and momentarily forget the suckage involved, until you’ve parted with your money.

So if you’re out tomorrow and you see someone driving around, vacant yet expectant expression on their glassy-eyed face, you can bet your ass they are headed for an afternoon of disappointment at Taco Bell.