By Jeff Girod
The real news is Taco Bell is debuting a new item on their breakfast menu. And I know what you’re thinking: “Oh goodie, because I hate having to wait until noon for explosive diarrhea.”
Infamous for their suitcase-like tacos encased inside other tacos like Russian nesting dolls—seriously Taco Bell, how hard is it to hand somebody one taco?—Taco Bell is testing a new breakfast item in select California restaurants called . . . wait for it . . . the waffle taco. (The waffle taco is expected to be available nationwide by next year, as if anyone can humanly wait that long.)
Now when I hear “waffle taco” it either sounds like the punch line to a dirty joke I don’t completely understand or a ‘60s dance craze sung by Chubby Checker. But Taco Bell swears the waffle taco is served with scrambled eggs, sausage and a side of syrup wrapped inside of a waffle.
And that’s good news. Because who has time to eat their eggs, sausage and waffles separately? Not this titan of industry. I’m too busy with hostile takeovers and promoting new boy bands. The waffle taco is a godsend, right up there with the Thighmaster, George Foreman Grill and Snuggie.
I understand the necessity of a waffle taco. Food gets boring. Everything gets boring. I’ve just written the word “boring” three times and already I’m bored. Eventually you want to switch things up.
You want to wrap sausage and eggs inside a waffle? Go for it, Taco Bell. You want to beer batter my grandma then send her back in time to cross the Delaware with George Washington? Can I get that in a combo meal with Fiesta Potatoes?
In fact, why don’t you lose that headset, grab a 12-gallon drum of bacon grease, and meet me behind the Dumpster. Let’s see what kind of real trouble we can get into, “Aimee,” if that really is your name or just what’s printed on your trainee ID badge.
There’s only so much Taco Bell can do with their menu, because it’s all essentially the same basic combination of meat, cheese and tortilla breading. Gorditas, Chalupas, nachos . . . it’s all just reconstituted ground beef and shredded cheese pushed into a messy blob and colored wrapper.
Breakfast burritos are even less complicated. You want eggs and cheese in a tortilla? Or do you want eggs, cheese and bacon in a tortilla? It must be hard work, trying to market something so simple. I’m surprised Taco Bell hasn’t put in a petting zoo.
Plus there’s really nothing “Mexican” about it. It’s just a waffle folded in half. Most of the regular food I eat winds up folded in half anyway. Making everything into an envelope is a faster delivery method. Just ask the post office.
We all have these idealistic scenarios that we’re going to sit beneath crystal waterfalls at hand-carved tables and eat nothing but goji berries and coconut milk. But then the alarm clock goes off, reality hits and we’re standing over our sinks eating a 2-year-old, freezer-burned mini Almond Joy.
Some might feign being offended by Taco Bell’s newest invention, as if there’s some fast food line of decency you’re never supposed to cross. But truthfully, the moment you enter a Taco Bell, anything is “in play”—like walking into a Tijuana circus.
Life seems too short to be offended by a waffle taco. But the reality is life is too long, Life takes forever. It just keeps coming and coming and coming.
Between politics and religion and every other hot-button topic, I don’t have the energy to be offended by a waffle taco. Actually, a waffle taco sounds pretty satisfying. Thank you, Taco Bell. I may never eat a plain waffle again.
And even if you are one of those blessed few with 3 percent body fat who always wears track pants and jogs in place at “Don’t Walk” signs to keep your “BP” up, first of all, f*#k you.
But secondly, treat yourself to a waffle taco. Sooner or later we all fold.
Contact Jeff Girod email@example.com