Oh Taco Bell I love you, yes I do. I will hear nothing of the whispers against your kind. Your bright bell sign draws me in when my day is full and my stomach is empty.
How do I love thee?
Let me count the ways. This won’t take long, because a very few ingredients are responsible for fulfilling all the promises of your menu.
And now there’s chicken.
I love that so many things can be assembled from your magic ingredients.
In different shapes.
Soft or crunchy.
Your drink bar returns the power to the button-pusher. Pick the size of the drink cup. Fill it with ice. Push the iced tea spigot. Move along and push for lemonade. Mix them together.
In California we call this drink Arnold Palmer.
I call it perfect.
With all things Taco Bell.
Ó Anita Garner 2009
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