Friday, May 22, 2009

In honour of my friend Cathy...

I have a reader! So today, I will cater to her. I wrote this piece years ago and it made her laugh out loud then, I hope it will when she reads it once again. This one is for you Cath, one of my most favourite people in the whole wide world.

I am at Taco Bell!

I am at Taco Bell and I am so excited!

I am the one dancing in line, all hopped up about a Grande Hard Taco and a large barrel of Pepsi.

I am at Taco Bell and I am going to make sure everyone knows how excited I am about it. Why? Because Taco Bell is the fast food restaurant of choice. My choice. And what should be everyone else's choice too!

Taco Bell is that place where North meets South and Tex meets Mex. Taco Bell is THE PLACE where one can go to experience the Alamo. A little slice of what it means to be Latin American, with that distinctly Mexican flare.

Dancing in the large aluminum 'people corral' I am suddenly sad. For a moment I am reminded of all the cows that stood in this very same format in order to give up their lives for the delectable tacos I am about to eat. I suppose the cows were a little less excited than me while they stood in line. I also suppose the conversation was less exciting for them as well. For whilest I dance and discuss my afternoon plans, my dearly departed bovine heros, Ed and Jeff, are probably cursing my ass and praying to Ganesh. Oh they will be back to hurt me, of that I am positively sure. Whether through soul transferance or heart disease, they will get their pound of flesh. So to speak.

But until then...I am going to order and eat some yummy Taco Bell and be happy!

As I approach the pimply faced 17 year old ready to take my order, I have a fleeting thought that perhaps the spice-and-seasoning-based-humidity is doing this young girl's complexion more harm than good. Is minimum wage worth the scaring that the noxious beef gases are doing to her face? The beat-up name tag shows me that this young lady is going by the name 'Amanda'. It may or may not really be her name. I don't know. But who wants to be asked their name from a person they hae been watching dance in the corral for the last last 15 minutes.

'Can I take your order?' she drawls in quiet rote.

'Why yes you can!' I proclaim emphatically. 'I would like a Grande Hard Taco and a barrel of Pepsi please!'.

And then it happened. The moment of I dread. The Taco Bell let-down. The moment that crushes my Central American spirit.

'We are out of hard taco shells. Do you want to order something else?'


I do not want to order something else. I want my hard shelled taco and I want my barrel of Pepsi. I have been dancing my ass off, laughing at the poor animals that gave the ultimate sacrifice and even felt sorry for the acne-ridden Taco girl because I was getting what I wanted and I was willing, even happy, to be kind to the universe while I waited.

I wanted to reach inside my coat and pull out a semi-automatic, aim it at her dangly name tag, and force her to move her skinny ass to the back and find me some fucking hard shells. I wanted to pull a Michael Douglas in the movie 'Falling Down' and make sure that I, and all my other 'people corral' friends, were going to get what was on the damn sign in the beautiful way it was presented. And it was going ot happen right NOW.

'Uh, so can I get you something else?'

'No thank you', I dejectedly whisper and move out of line. I walk toward the door, and out to my car. No Taco Bell for me today. Today is not the day I get Taco Bell. In my sadness I drive around the city, tired, hungry and slightly pathological. And then it hits me. Today wasn't REALLY my day for Taco Bell. Oh no, I wasn't REALLY in the mood for some Tex Mex southern comfort. No, today is the day I that I need KFC.

Formerly known as Kentucky Fried Chicken, but now known under the blaringly ambiguous KFC moniker it is aslso true to it's animal counterpart; there are no 'people corrals' at KFC. Like the chickens that gave up their lives for the wonderous food I was about to eat, KFC just lets you wander around until you confusedly make your way to the counter.

Whatever. I don't care. 'Cause I got my snack pack AND a bigger area to dance. I am at KFC and I am SO excited!

1 comment:

Adam David said...

One of my all-time favourite posts! I would love to hear you read it; maybe you could put it on mp3 for your adoring fans?